


Of Romance Novels and Rock 'n Roll

by nest_of_dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Band Fic, Bets & Wagers, Books, Crack Treated Seriously, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Gryffindor & Slytherin Inter-House Friendships, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Rock and Roll, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28551537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nest_of_dreams/pseuds/nest_of_dreams
Summary: Between (literally) killer dares and friends that refuse to just shag already, Blaise knew his eighth year would be anything but dull. Throw Theo Nott into the mix and things just get a whole lot more complicated.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Of Romance Novels and Rock 'n Roll

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Thank you [misakikinomoto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misakikinomoto/) for your massive help in shaping this story into what it is now. And a big thanks to [Irymia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/10022809/) for a thorough beta that was exactly what this fic needed!

Blaise groaned as he felt someone prodding his ribs. He was having a rather pleasant dream, actually, involving himself, a sturdy, four-poster bed, and a handsome boy who happened to be delightfully naked. He really was in no hurry to wake up and his subconscious clung to the dream tenaciously. He was just getting to a particularly interesting part when the prodding became less of a finger poking and more of a wand-about-to-hex-him poking and it truly was a testament to his love of sex—be it dream-induced or real—that even this didn’t jerk him to full wakefulness. Instead, he tried to roll over and promptly came in contact with a cold stone floor.

_Ouch._

He might as well have been walloped on the head with a bloody club with the way his head was throbbing now.

“Think he’s dead?” a muffled voice asked, sounding vaguely hopeful.

“I highly doubt that _,_ Pansy,” another voice replied impatiently. “Perhaps a mild concussion, but I’m sure falling off the couch is not going to be the end of Blaise.”

“Pity.”

“You know,” Blaise began with a groan, opening his eyes cautiously, only to be met with the dim light of a single wall torch. “When you talk like that, I almost get the impression that you don’t like me.”

“The knock to the head hasn’t done him any good,” Pansy sighed, rolling her eyes. “But I suppose one shouldn’t wish for the impossible.”

Blaise stared around the dim room, wondering for a moment why he wasn’t sleeping in his bed. He saw Ron snoring on another couch and Draco and Harry were sprawled together on a third, looking tortured. Pansy and Hermione stood over him with twin expressions of irritation and he gulped, trying desperately to remember what he may have done to incur their combined wrath.

“Before you start yelling at me, can someone please give me a Hangover Potion?” Blaise asked as pathetically as he could, realising that his headache was part just-smashed-his-head-on-the-ground and part got-sloshed-out-of-his-mind-not-too-long-ago.

Hermione sighed but handed him the bottle that she’d been holding in her hand. Blaise gulped it down thankfully, cringing for a moment at the terrible taste before sighing as it took immediate effect. Pansy had gone over to Ron and was prodding his cheek with her wand, eliciting a series of garbled mumbles before he shot upright with a groan and a bleary “Whassit?”.

Pansy had to practically pour another Hangover Potion down his throat but soon he was awake and sending Blaise questioning looks as subtly as he could – which meant not subtle at all. Blaise shrugged. For once he had no idea what they’d done wrong.

“Er…’Mione, why do you and Pansy look like someone spat in your pumpkin juice?” Ron asked with no tact whatsoever.

“Well, Ronald…”

Ron gulped, and Blaise couldn’t bring himself to disagree with the sentiment. Full names were always a sign of bad tidings, especially when paired with the unwavering stares of the two witches.

“We’re rather put out actually,” Hermione continued through gritted teeth, arms crossed. “Do you recall what took place in this room while Pansy and I were gone for a moment, or were you too drunk to do anything about it?”

Ron’s forehead scrunched up in thought and his eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment. Blaise, biting at his thumb distractedly, peered around at the empty room. The last thing he could recall was having a drinking contest with Finnegan. Come to think about it, Ron had been in it too. It was the first Friday of the new term and the eighth years had been having a party of sorts in the newly repaired Room of Requirement. Someone had provided booze and things had certainly spiralled from there. Blaise winced in sympathy for their now absent classmates who would undoubtedly be waking up with pounding heads and churning stomachs.

“Well, I remember spilling Firewhisky all over myself,” Ron finally replied with a shrug. “I think we were trying to see who could drink the most?”

Pansy made a strange explosive sound with her mouth. “Give it a rest, Hermione, your boyfriend was probably already passed out when it happened.”

The corners of Hermione’s mouth turned down considerably and Blaise sat up straight, a sense of foreboding beginning to settle in his gut. The atmosphere suddenly felt much too serious to be a simple screwup.

“Okay girls, I’m going to be straight with you – no pun intended,” Blaise couldn’t help but add, receiving two unimpressed stares. He continued nonetheless. “Ron and I have no recollection of anything that happened after we drank our weight in alcohol. So let’s not waste time with useless questions and why don’t you just tell us what happened.”

Hermione gave a weary sigh. “We have to let Lupin and Snape know about the situation too. It’ll be easier if we explain it all in one go. Come along.” She turned to the door but then paused to add, “Oh, and Blaise? Ron? You’ll have to help Harry and Draco. I don’t think they can walk on their own.” With that, she swept out with Pansy close behind her.

There was nothing else to do but obey Hermione’s order, and Blaise moved to get Draco off the couch, all the while wondering why he appeared to still be quite hung-over. Thankfully, Draco had always been a rather scrawny bloke so it was easy enough to support him as they slowly made their way after the girls.

“I don’t think we’ll be going to bed anytime soon,” Ron remarked blandly as he more or less _dragged_ Harry along the corridor. “Thank fuck it’s the weekend.”

Blaise grunted. Weekend or not, he had a feeling it was going to be a long time before any of them got any sleep.

* * *

Half an hour later, they were in Snape’s personal sitting room, waiting as Lupin tried to wake him up.

“He’s been in there for quite some time now,” Pansy said with a yawn. “Think they’re shagging?”

Ron gagged, shaking his head vigorously. “Now there’s a mental image I could have happily lived without.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It could be kind of hot,” Blaise couldn’t help saying just to bug Ron some more, watching in amusement as his face turned a rather extraordinary shade of green.

“Hermione, make him stop!”

Draco moaned from his place on the couch closest to the fireplace. “For the love of Merlin, could you all keep your voices down? It feels like there’s a nail being driven into my head when you shout like that.” Harry whimpered in apparent support.

“Well, you’ll just have to bear the pain,” Hermione replied unsympathetically.

Lupin came out of Snape’s bedroom. “He’ll be with us in a few minutes.” He paused to look from Draco to Hermione and then asked with some concern, “Is something amiss?”

Draco ignored him. “Granger, I swear if you don’t give us the bloody potion this instance, I will be forced to resort to force and maybe even Unforgiveables.” He glared at her in what he obviously _thought_ was a threatening manner, but Hermione simply eyed him back blandly.

“Do you _honestly_ think you look frightening, Draco? Because if so, I should tell you that you resemble nothing short of a drowned kneazle at the moment.”

Blaise had to agree. Draco was clutching his head with one hand, an eye closed in obvious pain and his face glistening with a sickly sheen. Harry didn’t look any better from where he sat beside him, leaning heavily on the armrest and moaning softly to himself.

“Hangover?” Lupin asked as he regarded them quizzically.

Pansy snickered. “Like you wouldn’t believe, Professor. They’re in _agony_ ,” she said in a purposefully loud voice that had the boys groaning in unison.

“And you aren’t giving them a Hangover Potion, why?”

“Because they deserve the pain after a night of unrestrained drinking,” Hermione answered pleasantly.

Before any more could be said, the bedroom door opened and Snape strode out, dark robes billowing around him and his signature sneer already plastered across his face. He regarded them all in silence, save for a tapping of his foot, until finally settling his gaze on Hermione. He didn’t say anything though, and Hermione began to squirm under his piercing gaze.

“Hermione, he wants you to tell us what happened,” Lupin eventually spoke up and Snape gave a terse nod and took a seat in an armchair, foot still tapping.

Blaise was thankful when Hermione got right down to business, seeing as how Snape looked moments away from committing mass genocide. He was obviously not a morning person.

“Professors, we’re so sorry for waking you up at such a time. I know it’s highly irregular and normally we would have waited until morning before coming to you, but this is quite serious.” Hermione sent a heated look at the pair on the sofa but they seemed to have passed out. Although, from what Blaise had seen, they’d rather conveniently been like that from the moment Snape walked in.

“As you may know,” Hermione continued, “the eighth years were allowed to hold a party in the Room of Requirement to celebrate the first week back. The thing is…” she trailed off, biting at her bottom lip.

Pansy sighed. “What Ms I-am-the head-girl-and-must-never-break-any-rules is trying to say is, there was alcohol at the party. But in our defence, we _are_ of age.”

“Be that as it may, you know the Headmistress would not have approved,” Lupin chided.

“This is _exactly_ why I disapproved in the first place!” Snape burst out vehemently. “A gathering of the so-called eighth years was bound to end badly, but did anyone listen to me? Certainly not!” He glared at the other professor.

“Oh, come now, Severus, how were we to know that they would bring alcohol?”

“A pack of eighteen-year-olds having an unsupervised party in a room that provides its occupants with whatever they want? Yes, what an _unexpected_ turn of events.” Snape rolled his eyes, tone flat.

Hermione wrung her hands tightly together. “I’m so sorry! I just _knew_ it was a bad idea, but someone spiked the punch bowl, and then I don’t know who wished up a crate of Ogden’s finest, and everyone was having such a nice time, and I didn’t want to be a spoilsport, and–”

“Ms Granger, you can cease your prattling,” Snape cut through her impassioned speech, though not unkindly. “What’s done is done. Now, I’d be simply ecstatic if you would kindly get to the point of all this. Why are you all here? Why are Draco and Potter pretending to be dead? And what does this all have to do with _me_?”

“For the record,” Draco suddenly spoke up in a weak voice, “I’m not pretending to be dead, seeing as how I’m practically at death’s door already.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “ _Accio_ Hangover Potion.” He neatly caught the bottle that came flying towards him and handed it to Draco, who gratefully took a long draught of it. He immediately looked much better, and Harry snatched the bottle away, almost choking in his haste to down the rest of the potion.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, sending Snape a grateful smile.

Snape waved it off. “It was nothing. Now, as you are no longer ‘at death’s door’, care to explain, Mr Potter?”

“But it was Malfoy who said that, not me!”

“Well, I am asking _you_ now. Are you refusing to answer me?” Snape’s voice lowered threateningly.

“Yeah, Potter, answer him.”

“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy!”

“Harry, language!”

“For the love of Merlin, everyone _shut_ _up_!”

Pansy’s voice rang through the room and everyone turned to her. She glared at them as a whole. “This is ridiculous. At this rate, nothing is going to happen so why don’t _I_ tell them what happened?”

“Go right ahead, Pansy,” Lupin said and Blaise leaned forward eagerly. Maybe now he’d finally get to know what the hell was going on.

Pansy nodded. “I’ll give you the bare facts. Harry got drunk, Draco got drunk, and that prat Smith got drunk. They ended up fighting over something but I don’t remember what it was exactly. At that point, I needed to vomit since I was pissed as well and Hermione was nice enough to accompany me to the loo and hold my hair back. When we returned, the boys were already fucked, and not in the good way.”

“Ms Parkinson…” Snape began warningly.

Pansy actually tossed one of her finely manicured hands at him. “Oh Professor, don’t be such a prude.” When Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously, she quickly added, “But I should watch my language, yes. Duly noted.” She smiled sweetly and Blaise thought he saw Snape’s mouth twitch as if holding back a smile.

“Anyways,” she continued, “it seems Smith made some random dare and then Luna made a suggestion which Smith readily accepted. Long story short, the boys not only accepted the dare but also signed a _Blood Oath_.”

Blaise felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut and Ron gave a decidedly unmanly squeak. The two professors gaped in unabashed horror and they stared at the shame-faced boys, currently examining the floor. Blaise swallowed the bile that had risen up his throat. Surely Draco couldn’t have been stupid enough to actually...

As if reading his thoughts, Hermione chimed in. “They actually did do it.” She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a scroll, holding it open so that they could clearly see _Harry Potter_ and _Draco Malfoy_ glowing eerily at the bottom of the parchment.

“We tried destroying it as soon as we came back,” Pansy said with a frustrated puff of breath. “But it was no use.”

“Good god…” Lupin muttered with a slow shake of his head, turning to regard Harry with an almost heartbroken gaze. Harry stared back miserably.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered helplessly.

“Have you come here hoping that we could absolve the _Oath_?” Snape asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “As far as I know, the only way to get out of a _Blood Oath_ is to fulfil the requirements or…” He left the rest of his sentence unsaid.

Blaise closed his eyes. Everyone knew that a failure to fulfil the requirements could cause pain, injury and eventual death. _Blood Oaths_ were commonly used when a contract was made between two people, usually one devoting their life or services to another. However, Harry and Draco had made one in regards to a bloody dare which made it all the more dangerous seeing as how one could never be too sure about dares in the first place.

“What was the dare?” Lupin asked in a defeated voice. Blaise prayed it wasn’t anything impossible.

“It’s pretty stupid actually,” Draco replied with a shrug, side-eying Harry. “Potter and I have to throw a rock concert and get an appreciative response.”

It was a good thing Blaise was sitting down because the growing insanity of the situation would have likely bowled him over had he been on his feet. As it was, he was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. How drunk had Smith been exactly?!

Lupin cleared his throat. “How very… imaginative of Smith.”

“Are those the only terms? Is there a specified date?” Snape demanded.

Harry nodded. “We’re supposed to hold it on the…what was it?”

“The fourth Saturday from now,” Draco supplied. “Which gives us a month.”

“Are those the _only_ conditions?” Snape persisted, and Blaise finally noticed that the two looked rather shifty now.

“Well…” Harry stalled.

“Well?” Snape prodded.

“Well... the thing is…”

“Spit it out, Potter!”

“You both have to take part in it too!” Harry blurted out in a rush and then hid behind Draco, who rolled his eyes and muttered, “Gryffindor bravery my arse _._ ”

Lupin buried his face in his hands and Severus hissed what sounded like, “ _Should have let the accursed snake finish me off._ ”

Blaise turned to Hermione. “I agree with you now. Alcohol is a thing of pure evil.”

She at least looked pleased by that.

“It was all Malfoy’s fault really,” Harry added.

“ _Excuse me_?” Draco turned to Harry with an incredulous expression. “How is this _my_ fault exactly?”

“You’re the one who was all _‘Is that all you’ve got, Smith?’_. You obviously _provoked_ him into adding more terms.”

“Oh, I like _that_! And what about you? _‘Give us something we’ll have to work for, you git.’_ Who the fuck said that, I wonder?”

As they began to argue, the professors started to furiously whisper between themselves. Blaise stared helplessly at Draco. He’d known the bloke for a long time now and this was _by far_ the stupidest thing Draco had ever done, and that included taking the Dark mark and letting Death Eaters into the school. At least then he’d been doing it for his family, which Blaise thought was a valid enough excuse.

Ron sidled over to him as Pansy and Hermione joined the professors in their heated debate. “You know, I’ve known Harry for seven years now.” He sent said friend a defeated look as he continued arguing with Draco.

“I’ve known Draco for almost eighteen years.”

Ron regarded him with something akin to awe. “You deserve an Order of Merlin for that.”

Blaise shrugged. “Already have one. And besides, if it was a matter of putting up with those two tossers, I’d think anyone who’s ever met them deserves a medal.”

Ron only nodded solemnly.

* * *

“I can’t find my pocket watch!”

“Well, don’t look at me. I certainly didn’t take it. Why do you even need it now?”

“It’s outrageously expensive. Quite beyond your price range, I’d think. Oh, and I’m certain you did take it.”

“Why on earth would I want something that belongs to you? And you do know that a pocket watch is a Muggle device, don’t you?”

“Of course I know that. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Not like it takes a lot to do that.”

“Oh, sod off! Besides, when have you, a paragon of Pureblood aristocracy and all that rot, been one for anything Muggle?”

“Oooh ‘paragon’. You just used a big word. Perhaps I should let the Prophet know about this momentous occasion.”

“It won’t be the first time you’ve gone to them. Now shut up!”

“Not until you give me back my watch.”

“I didn’t take your bloody watch!”

“Yes, you–”

“ **Enough**!”

Draco and Harry turned to their glowering Potions professor, twin grimaces on their faces. Blaise had to give Snape some credit for not having AK’d them yet. The two of them together were enough to try the patience of a saint and Snape was definitely no saint.

“Severus, perhaps we should all calm down and talk this over once more,” Lupin called from the other side of the room, advancing over.

Snape took a moment to compose himself before he nodded. “Potter. Draco. Sit.” He levitated a pair of chairs to them and they both did as told, still glaring at each other.

“Now.” He stared them both down as if for good measure. “Why is it that the two of you cannot seem to remain in each other’s company for even a few minutes without bickering?”

Harry spoke up indignantly, “It wasn’t my fault this time! You heard him. _He_ started it!”

“I wouldn’t have had to ‘start’ anything if you had just handed it back to me.”

“I already told you, I did not take it.”

“And I say you–”

“ ** _Accio_ Draco’s pocket watch!”**

A small silver pocket watch flew out from under the teacher’s desk and into Snape’s outstretched hand. He silently handed it to a dumbstruck Draco.

“Oh… er, thank you.”

“Do _not_ mention it.”

A silence filled the room and Lupin cleared his throat. “You boys are going to have to put your differences aside or this is not going to work out. Don’t forget, you’re both lucky that Severus and I have agreed to this.”

“No one forced you to,” Harry muttered sulkily.

“Would you prefer excruciating pain instead? Or possible death?” Snape seethed. “The school year has not even properly begun and I’ve already been dragged into a Potter-related mess!”

“Severus, it isn’t that bad.”

“It is, in fact, ‘that bad’.”

Though usually an optimistic person – disgustingly optimistic to the point of making people sick, as Draco said – Blaise had to agree with Snape. The morning had certainly not begun well for Draco and Harry and had subsequently affected anyone involved in the dilemma. After the professors were told the details of the _Oath_ , they’d both thought it best to alert the Headmistress about it all. Blaise had never seen McGonagall in anything but her sensible dark robes, and to see her rushing them all to her office wearing a pink dressing gown pulled haphazardly over her nightgown was certainly a sight indeed. She’d quickly grasped the severity of the matter and summoned the rest of the professors from their beds, in the hope that they might have an idea about countering the _Oath_. Unfortunately, the early morning meeting hadn’t proved to be much help and everyone had had to go down for breakfast in varying states of worry.

There’d been a meeting for the other eighth years after breakfast and McGonagall hadn’t really said much about the party itself, instead stressing on the need to keep the existence of the _Oath_ from the other students lest it, Merlin forbid, make it into the press. No action had been taken against Smith, owing partly to the fact that he’d been inebriated at the time and that the boys _had_ accepted the terms willingly. Blaise still longed for the chance to punch the twat on his dainty little nose, but Hermione must have sensed his blood thirst because she made sure to keep him and Ron away from Smith at all times.

The other professors were feverishly looking for a way to break the _Oath_ but as nothing had come of it yet, Lupin had suggested they retreat to the empty DADA classroom to try and come up with a plan. Hermione however, had opted to dash off somewhere, dragging Pansy and Ron along with her after ordering Blaise to stay with Draco and the others to make sure none of them killed each other. Personally, he didn’t think his intervention would do any good, should they actually turn violent, and the only thing that had happened so far was Harry and Draco arguing over every little thing.

“What are we even doing here?” Draco asked irritably. “It’s not like we’re getting anything out of this ‘discussion’, and I happen to have a rather long Transfiguration essay to finish.”

“Draco, this is serious,” Snape snapped. “And as much as it pains me to say, at the moment this concert is much more important than schoolwork.”

Harry snorted. “At least we’re getting one good thing out of this bloody mess.”

“A mess that you two imbeciles dragged us into,” Snape reminded them harshly.

The door opened and Hermione and the rest trooped in, looking rather pleased with themselves. They were levitating a collection of cases and boxes behind them and these were placed in the middle of the room.

“I hope those smiles mean you’ve found a way to break the _Oath_ ,” Harry said, his voice hopeful.

“Sorry, mate,” Ron answered with a wan smile. “But no one’s found anything yet.”

“They’re not planning on giving up though,” Hermione put in hurriedly. “But honestly… at this point I really don’t think they’re going to find anything.”

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic!” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I suppose I should talk to Mother and discuss the details of my funeral, seeing as how I’m going to die in a month.”

“Oh, darling, don’t be so melodramatic,” Pansy said, patting him on the cheek. “We’re here to help you.”

“Forgive me if I’m not jumping with joy,” Draco deadpanned.

Harry squinted at Hermione suspiciously. “Do you really think you can help us?”

She shook her curls back stoically. “I can try.”

“Well then, Hermione,” Lupin said with a clap of his hands. “Let’s hear what you have to say.” Hermione nodded.

“Alright, so obviously the only thing we can really do right now is prepare for the concert. We went around the school speaking to people,” she pointed towards the pile of cases with her wand and began to remove the contents, “and we managed to procure two guitars, a keyboard, and a full drum set.”

“Wait, don’t the guitars and keyboard need electricity?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. “These are magical instruments. They’ll produce the same sounds but don’t need to be plugged in or anything. We decided that Professor Lupin should play the keyboard and Professor Snape should play the drums, leaving you two with the guitars.”

“Wait, why must I play a guitar?” Draco asked with a frown and tilt of his head. “Wouldn’t it be better if I played the keyboard since I’m already an accomplished pianist?” 

“Normally that would be true,” Hermione acknowledged. “But the thing is, we have to think in terms of pleasing the masses. Even if the others were to lie about enjoying the concert, for you and Harry’s sake, the _Oath_ would know. Therefore, we have to make this ‘band’ as authentic as possible and properly appeal to the crowd. _Of course_ the music is important, but sometimes it’s the image of the band that really makes a difference.”

“How is me playing a guitar going to help this ‘image’ of yours?” Draco persisted, crossing his arms petulantly.

“Well, for starters, it’s a known fact that the guitarists do most of the singing,” Hermione pointed out patiently. “I know for a fact that Harry has a pretty good singing voice, and according to Blaise, you sing beautifully.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Blaise. “When have I ever sung for you?”

“In the showers, of course.”

Everyone stared at the two in shock and Blaise laughed nervously as a murderous gleam came into Draco’s eyes.

“Alright, fine, it’s not like that,” he hastened to say. “What I meant is, Draco occasionally sings in the shower. All the boys in our dorm have heard him.” Draco flushed and looked like he had something to say, but suddenly seemed to change his mind and turned back to Hermione.

“Why can’t I still sing but play the keyboard? I’m sure some bands do that.”

“Some do,” Hermione allowed, widening her eyes innocently. “But then again, guitarists are also the ones who interact the most with the audience.”

“And?”

“ _And_ ,” she drew out the word slowly, her innocent expression instantly giving way to a devious smirk, “an audience is sure to fawn over a pair of good-looking guitarists.”

While Draco preened and nodded his approval at Hermione’s apparent appreciation for his looks, Harry looked completely flabbergasted, eyes practically bugging out of their sockets.

Hermione placed her hands on her hips with a sigh, shaking her head. “Oh, please, Harry, you must know that you’re an extremely handsome boy, and a fit one at that.” Harry flushed a bright red and she continued impatiently, “And we all know that Draco is gorgeous.”

“ _Hermione_!”

She turned her unamused gaze on an indignant Ron. “It’s a simple observation, really. I’m pretty sure most of the girls at Hogwarts have fantasised about Draco at one point or another, and possibly quite a lot of boys as well.”

“Don’t look so shocked, Ron,” Pansy joined in with a snort. “I mean, have you _seen_ Draco? Those stunning eyes and all that creamy skin and his _lips_. Salazar, one could just–”

“I think we’ve had enough swooning over my godson for one day,” Snape interrupted dryly. “May we please get back to the task at hand?”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione answered immediately, her tone becoming brisk once again. “Anyways, Professor Lupin also knows how to play the piano so keys shouldn’t be too hard for him, and I’m sure Professor Snape can master the drums in no time. Also, what do you plan on calling yourselves?” When they did nothing but stare blankly at her, she sighed. “You need a name for the band, you know. Ideas, anyone?”

“The Whomping Willows,” Harry suggested promptly.

Snape looked scandalised. “ _No_.”

Ron scratched his head. “How ‘bout ‘Harry and the Potters’?” Blaise couldn’t help snickering rather immaturely over the suggestion, but Snape and Draco didn’t seem to share his sentiment.

“Absolutely not!” they both cried together. Draco glared at Ron.

“If anyone’s name should be used, it should be mine. ‘Draco and the Malfoys’ has a nice ring to it, if you ask me.”

“Draco,” Snape began slowly as if speaking to a child. “I’m not sure that would be suitable.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Hermione agreed. “It can’t be something so self-centred, it should represent all of you.”

Looking around, Blaise wondered if there really was anything that could universally represent the four nouvelle bandmates. They were all supremely different individuals and the only thing that really tied them together was probably the War. Not really the most stellar of inspirational choices, in his opinion. Ideas seemed to dry out then and eventually Hermione lifted her hands in defeat, palms facing upwards.

“Let’s come back to that later, I think. We really should get on to the actual music.” She held up some sheets of paper. “Pansy and I have decided on a song done by a Muggle rock band. It’s quite gritty and full of raw emotion, and if you do it well, I’m sure the audience will respond in kind.”

“And Draco, do not even think about fussing over it being Muggle,” Pansy added, giving him a _look_. “Hardly anyone will have heard of it, so that’s another point in your favour. If you mess up, no one will know the song well enough to know.”

Hermione nodded, beginning to hand out the sheets. “I’ve made copies of the sheet music as well as the lyrics, but the Professors need not sing. Draco and Professor Lupin can already read music which leaves Harry and–”

“Actually, I can read music too,” Harry interrupted.

Hermione blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Dudley used to go for piano classes, though he stopped after a week,” Harry explained idly. “I found his old book one day and taught myself to read, although I’ve never played anything.”

“That’s wonderful, Harry! I’ll only have to teach Professor Snape now.”

Snape cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary, Ms Granger. I am able to read as well.” He didn’t elaborate on how he knew this when it was a known fact that he didn’t play any sort of instrument, and no one asked. With the stiff way he was holding himself, it seemed like the reason was personal.

“Well, that’s even better!” Hermione eventually said. “And now that that’s all sorted out, shall we get to the instruments now?” She quickly set up the drum set and keyboard and handed the guitars to Harry and Draco.

Harry held his awkwardly. “Um... Hermione, you do know that I have no idea how to play, and I’m pretty sure Malfoy doesn’t either.” For once, Draco actually nodded in agreement.

“And that is where I come in,” Blaise interjected, having already discussed his part in it all with Hermione.

“You play?” Draco asked with raised brows, regarding him with a rather insulting amount of skepticism. “I never knew that.”

“Just because you know me considerably better than most people, doesn’t mean you know _everything_ about me,” Blaise pointed out patiently. “And yes, I do indeed play. I’m quite proficient in piano and violin – that was all Mother, of course. I also play the cello, clarinet, and trumpet. I learnt when Mother was involved with that Italian viscount. He had quite the music room and I was bored, so he hired a tutor for me. And last but certainly not least, I play guitar and drums. One of Mother’s recent catches had a son and he taught me. You must remember him, Draco. He was the brunette with those stunning blue eyes and fine arse? I certainly put that to use,” he added with a salacious smile.

“Zabini!” Snape snapped in disgust, his sneer becoming decidedly more pronounced. “Kindly refrain from discussing your exploits in public.”

Blaise laughed. “Pansy is right, Professor. You _are_ a prude.”

Snape gave him a withering look before glaring at Pansy.

“Well, then,” Pansy said, obviously wanting to get away from Snape’s stare. “We’ll leave you lot to practice then.”

Hermione nodded as she and Ron followed Pansy out of the room. “We’ll see you at lunch. Good day, Professors.”

They closed the door behind them and Blaise turned to the remaining four. “Let’s get started then.”

* * *

“That was horrible.”

“It wasn’t–”

“If you say ‘it wasn’t that bad’ one more time, I swear on Salazar’s grave, I will slip Draught of living death into your pumpkin juice when you least expect it.”

Blaise snorted to himself. Snape was always going on about Draco’s melodramatics but honestly, he was far worse.

Lupin laughed. “If you wanted me to not expect it, you shouldn’t have told me your plan.”

“In front of witnesses too,” Draco smirked. “You’re losing your touch, Professor.”

Snape directed a scorching stare at his traitorous godson and then switched it on to Harry when he laughed.

“But really Professor, you were fine,” Harry said quite seriously. “You weren’t as bad as Malfoy anyways.”

Draco scoffed. “As if you did any better, Potter.”

“I never said I did.”

“Professor Snape actually did do quite well for his first time,” Blaise said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I think you enjoyed it too, didn’t you, Professor?”

Snape gave a truly terrifying smile. “It was a rather useful stress relief.”

The Great Hall was already full by the time they got there but there were still a number of students loitering at the entrance, much to Snape’s distaste. He needn’t have worried though, because the stragglers hurriedly moved out of the way as soon as they saw them approaching. As the professors nodded their goodbyes and made their way over to the High Table, Blaise turned towards Slytherin with Draco, only to stop when Harry suddenly called after them.

“Er... I think you’re supposed to join us at Gryffindor,” he said, gesturing to where Pansy sat beside Hermione, waving wildly at them.

Before Draco could so much as open his mouth to protest, Blaise grabbed his arm firmly and speedily dragged him along to the others. Draco was none too pleased about the manhandling but Blaise chose to ignore the indignant squawks that followed and shoved Draco down between himself and Harry. When the stubborn tosser immediately tried to get up, Blaise sighed and deliberately placed a long leg across his lap, effectively keeping him in place for the time being. He couldn’t help laughing at Draco’s outraged expression, but had to quickly withdraw his leg before it could be stabbed with a fork. Draco glared venomously but finally seemed to accept his predicament and made no move to get up, allowing Blaise to turn his attention to the rest of the table. Reaching for the chicken, he addressed his question to Pansy. “So we’re sitting here now?”

Pansy shrugged. “Isn’t that what friends do?”

“And when exactly did we become friends with _Gryffindors_?” Draco seethed, just to be contrary.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pansy drawled sarcastically, tapping her chin as she pretended to ponder his question. “Maybe when you turned your back on your father and You-know-who and somehow managed to persuade us into joining Harry and the rest of them in the greatest battle the Wizarding world has ever seen? Not to mention spending months together during the re-building.”

“That was different!”

“How exactly is that different?” Blaise questioned, hitting Draco on the nose with a well-thrown pea. “I mean, what better way to bring people together than a couple of near-death experiences and long hours of menial labour?”

“I meant that I didn’t join them because I _liked_ them. It was more for the fact that I didn’t want to follow a bloody madman and contribute to all the useless killing!” Draco snapped out in one breath. Everyone stared at him in silence and he went pink. “What?” he said defensively, prompting Hermione to hesitantly speak up.

“It’s just... we all knew that you’d defected and changed your views and all, but you never voiced the change. It’s nice to hear you say it, is all,” she finished with a smile.

“Oh, shut up, Granger,” Draco muttered, staring at his plate.

“Not that Malfoy’s reformation isn’t interesting and all,” Ron interjected, “but how did practice go?”

“Well,” Blaise began. “Snape was pretty good and all Lupin had to do was learn the song by himself. It was these two that were the problem.” He glanced sideways at the duo. “They were bloody horrible.”

“It can’t have been that bad,” Pansy said with a smothered giggle.

Blaise grimaced wholeheartedly as he remembered the practice session. “I assure you, it was. I could hardly get them to listen to my instructions – they were too engrossed in each other for that.” Both boys shot him angry looks and he shrugged. “It’s true.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Hermione sighed. “Maybe it would be better if they learnt separately.”

“That might actually be better,” Blaise agreed. “But it’ll cut their overall practice time in half and I refuse to give up more of my precious time making up for it. I have better things and people to do.”

“Classy, Blaise,” Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. “Why not simply get that bloke who owns the guitar to teach one of them? He’s that seventh year Slytherin, Clarke. I’m sure he’d be willing to take on Draco.”

“ **Absolutely not!** ”

Everyone turned to stare at Harry for his sudden outburst and he squirmed in his seat.

“And why not, Harry?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Well, he’s – _you know_... it’s been all over the school and – oh, sod it all! He’s gay!”

“So?” This came from Draco, a single eyebrow raised. “Are you revealing yourself to be a homophobe, because seeing as how you’re gay too, it all seems rather self-deprecating.”

Harry glared. “Of course I have nothing against him being gay!”

“Then what _is_ the problem here?”

“He fancies you!” Harry practically shouted and now the rest of the Hall had turned to stare at him.

Blaise snickered. “Wow, Harry, could you be a bit louder? I don’t think the giant squid heard you.”

“Coming back on topic,” Draco cut in, “what does his fancying me have to do with anything?”

Harry looked extremely flustered now. “It just does!”

“Such a sound argument, Potter.”

“I mean,” Harry tried again, almost desperately so. “He’ll end up flirting with you.”

“So?”

Harry groaned in apparent anguish. Most of the Hall was unabashedly watching the exchange and the star of the conversation was currently smirking in Harry’s direction as if he knew exactly what was happening. Blaise felt very glad to be sitting on Harry’s side of the table now. If his expression was anything to go by, the Gryffindor was moments away from hurling something at Clarke’s smirking face. Blaise allowed himself a private smirk of his own. Harry was just too easy to read.

“ _So_ , he’ll flirt with you and you’ll flirt back and then you’ll probably end up snogging. Or worse,” Harry added darkly.

“And this is a bad thing, why?” Draco asked with a perplexed tilt of his head. “He might be rather unremarkable in looks, but I hear he’s amazing in bed.”

Harry choked.

“It’s true,” Blaise couldn’t help saying and then mentally cursed his loose tongue. Harry looked just about ready to hex his bollocks off and he was rather fond of those actually. Luckily for him, Hermione chose that moment to jump in.

“Harry’s right, Draco. If we get Clarke to teach you, I doubt you’ll get any work done.”

Harry smiled. “See? That’s exactly what I was going for.”

“If you say so,” Draco relented with a shrug, shooting Harry a searching look before turning to Blaise. “There’s no need for another tutor. I’m sure Potter and I can behave like civilised adults during our next lesson. Right, Potter?”

“Er... right.”

Pansy leant across the table with a mocking smile. “Really, Draco? _Civilised_ _adults_? Now that, I’d like to see.”

Blaise hid his smile in his goblet of pumpkin juice. If his assumptions were correct (and they usually were, thank you very much), pretty soon they’d be seeing Draco and Harry getting along much better – though probably not in the way the others were hoping for. He _was_ rather disappointed that he’d never get a chance to bed Harry now. Or even Draco, for that matter.

_Oh, well, you can’t get them all_ , he reflected philosophically.

On a whim, he glanced over at the Slytherin table and was pleasantly surprised to find Theo Nott not so surreptitiously looking back at him, obvious interest in his eyes. He’d known Theo for years – almost as long as he’d known Draco – and the boy had always had an aloofness that Blaise could never seem to completely overcome. He pretty much flirted with everyone _except_ Theo. There was always something in his eyes that had made Blaise keep himself in check. But now, for some inconceivable reason, Theo was _looking_ at him, and those dark eyes spoke of other things.

As casually as he could, Blaise spooned a bit of mashed potato into his mouth, making sure to lavish his spoon with kittenish licks. When he snuck a glance over at Theo again, even from the distance, he could see his face flush a bright red before he hurriedly ducked his head.

_Interesting_.

Draco and Harry were now fighting over a sausage of all things, but Blaise could see that underneath all that fire, there was a hint of amusement in both their eyes. He watched them for a while as one might watch a pair of frolicking puppies and then turned his attention back to the Slytherin table. Theo was pretending to read as he ate, but couldn’t seem to stop himself from glancing over at the Gryffindor table. This time, Blaise took an unnecessarily large bite of mash, not caring in the least that he might as well be deep-throating his spoon at this point, and watched in amusement as Theo gathered up his things and practically ran from the Hall.

Blaise contemplated the unexpected turn of events before finally giving himself a mental pat on the back. At least he’d have something to amuse himself with while he watched Draco and Harry dance around each other.

The new term proved to be interesting indeed.

* * *

“This is entertaining.”

“I think you mean horrifically disastrous.”

“C’mon, ‘Mione, it is pretty funny.”

“They’re supposed to be practicing!”

“Well, they are. Kind of. They’re practicing something.”

“Ronald, this isn’t Defence class.”

“Don’t you think they look rather hot?”

“Pansy!”

“They do, don’t they?”

“Instead of ogling them, shouldn’t you be stopping them, Blaise?”

“Hermione, I value my life too much to get between them when they’re like this.”

Blaise watched as Hermione gave an irritated huff of breath and stalked towards the two duelling boys. They weren’t using any significantly dangerous spells, but he was still rather impressed when she walked directly into the line of fire without so much as a flinch. The boys lowered their wands at once, panting and flushed with exertion. They appeared to have the good sense to look ashamed of themselves, but it didn’t stop Hermione from sending furious looks between the two.

“Lupin’s office. **Now**!”

“Bloody hell, Ron!” Blaise exclaimed after Hermione had led the boys into the adjoining room and shut the door firmly behind them. “I haven’t seen Draco that scared since he broke his mother’s century old ornamental vase back when we were six.”

“And did you see Harry’s face?” Pansy cackled. “Even You-know-who didn’t make him look like that!”

Ron’s chest puffed out with obvious pride. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” he said, and looked even more pleased when they both solemnly nodded.

Fifteen minutes later the trio emerged. Hermione looked very satisfied with herself but the boys looked like they’d just been _Kissed_ , meekly standing behind her like a pair of well-trained crups.

“Will we be continuing our session?” Blaise asked as he propped his guitar back on his lap. He’d sent for it by owl after Pansy had insisted, and it had arrived just as they were finishing with lunch. They hadn’t been able to do anything regarding the concert until after dinner though, since the eighth years had had a small seminar about career choices and making future decisions and all that rot. A waste of a good afternoon if you asked him.

Hermione shook her head. “It’s late now and I think we should be heading back to the common room. Don’t want to have Filch after us.”

“It’s not like he can do anything even if he did catch us,” Blaise said, carefully packing his guitar away and looking around to see if he’d left any picks lying about. “We don’t have a curfew after all, so technically, we aren’t breaking any rules.”

“Tell that to Filch,” Pansy scoffed. “All he wants is a chance to scold us. Bet he gets off on it.”

Her statement was followed by a chorus of groans.

“I swear, Pans, you have an unnatural fascination with Filch’s wanking habits,” Draco muttered, and then grimaced. “Ugh, ‘Filch’ and ‘wanking’ should not be used in the same sentence. Ever.”

“You’re the one who brought it up, Malfoy,” Ron pointed out, also looking quite sick.

“And anyways, he doesn’t need to get off on his own,” Blaise cut in before Draco could pick a fight with Ron. “He has Pince for that, after all,” he added with a wink.

Draco covered his face with his hands. “Blaise, _please_ shut up.”

With all their instruments packed up, they vacated the Room of Requirement, thankful to find no one waiting for them in the corridor. Half the batch had been left outside and they probably would have followed them inside too, if not for Draco threatening to set his owl on them. Tiberius really was a rather terrifying bird, and the mere sight of him sent first years scurrying under tables and made for some amusing breakfasts.

“Why is it that we had to spend the last three hours wearing our fingertips to the bone while Sev and Lupin are off on their little moonlit rendezvous?” Draco grumbled, stretching his arms above his head and shaking out his wrists.

“It isn’t a moonlit rendezvous,” Harry replied with a yawn. “Hagrid found a dead acromantula near the edge of the forest. I think Snape wanted to get the venom and Remus went to keep him from pissing off Hagrid.”

Ron paled. “Near the edge of the forest? What the bloody hell are they doing coming so close to the school?”

“Maybe it got lost,” Pansy suggested.

Draco raised a brow. “I certainly hope no more of them ‘get lost’ then. Honestly, who builds a school beside a death trap of a forest?”

“The same people who build it across a lake that houses a giant squid and vicious merpeople,” Harry remarked dryly.

“I’m sure the merfolk are simply misunderstood,” Draco said, giving Harry a sidelong glance. “They’d probably be much more accommodating to someone of my charm and wit.”

Harry snorted. “Charm and wit, huh? And here I thought you didn’t know how to make a joke.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Potter.”

“According to you, _nothing_ becomes me.”

“How sweet, you know me so well.”

Blaise shook his head in fond exasperation as Draco and Harry geared up for yet another go at each other. With the way they were now walking ahead of the rest of them, it was likely they’d forgotten that anyone else existed outside their little bubble.

Ron sidled over to Blaise’s side and nudged him unnecessarily hard in the ribs. “You following the match on Sunday?” he asked amicably.

“Match?” Blaise said with a tight smile, pointedly rubbing at his bruised side.

“Chudley Cannons versus Puddlemere United, _obviously_. I was thinking…”

Blaise cursed under his breath, even as he plastered on a look of interest. He’d never been a great fan of Quidditch himself, preferring to watch for the fit players rather than the game itself, and Ron’s impassioned speeches tended to go completely over his head more times than not. As Ron began to painstakingly explain why the Cannons were ‘sure’ to take the Cup that year, Blaise shamelessly tuned him out and focused on the conversation going on behind him. He’d long since taught himself to carry on a conversation with half an ear to _another_.

“Surely they aren’t going to start again,” Hermione was saying, evident exasperation colouring her voice. “You’d think they’d be over their childhood rivalry by now.”

“They _are_ over it, Hermione, and there’s definitely nothing childish about _that._ ”

Blaise had to stop himself from smirking. So Pansy wasn’t as clueless to what was going on as he’d initially thought.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked in what seemed to be genuine confusion, much to Blaise’s surprise. He’d been sure that _Hermione_ of all people would have read the signs by now. Pansy seemed to share his opinion as she let out a strangled, “ _What_?”

“Am I missing something here?” Hermione enquired innocently, just as Ron asked Blaise something that forced his attention away from the girls for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Ron gave an impatient huff. “I wanted to know what you thought of the Cannons’ new Keeper.”

Blaise hadn’t even known who their _old_ Keeper was and decided a deflection was necessary. “You know, you should really ask Draco about that. He had a rather strong opinion about him actually. Wasn’t very flattering though.”

Just as predicted, Ron went blustering over to Draco immediately, walking smack into the middle of the Potter-Malfoy bubble of pining. Swallowing a laugh at the disgruntled faces of the two lovebirds, Blaise smoothly slowed his gait so that he was walking beside Pansy, impatiently attempting to explain the situation to a confused Hermione.

“Must I spell it out for you?” Pansy hissed. “Draco does _not_ hate Harry. In fact, I’m pretty sure he never hated him in the first place.”

“If he didn’t hate him, then why was he so horrid to Harry for all those years?” Hermione countered, her forehead wrinkling as she crossed her arms.

Pansy sighed. “Listen, this conversation must never be repeated, and certainly Draco can never hear about this.”

“Is it alright for Blaise to be hearing this then?”

“Trust me,” Pansy laughed, smirking in his direction. “He knows it all and even if he didn’t, he’d eavesdrop on this discussion anyways.”

“Ah, Pansy, you know me so well,” Blaise simpered and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She elbowed him lightly in the stomach but otherwise made no fuss, idly leaning into him.

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Pansy began, lowering her voice as she eyed the trio in front of them warily. “We’d all grown up hearing stories of the great Harry Potter. Draco especially found him incredible – you will not tell him I told you that – and when he heard that Harry was coming to Hogwarts, he was ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to meet him and he was so sure they’d be the best of friends.”

“And then Harry rejected him,” Hermione finished in a soft voice.

“And then Harry rejected him,” Pansy echoed morosely. “Blaise and I have known Draco since we were tiny, and I honestly think that was the first time anyone had shown Draco _exactly_ what they thought of him. Needless to say, He didn’t take it very well.”

“And that’s putting it lightly,” Blaise added, wincing over the memory. “Salazar, the fit he threw that night in the dorms. I’m pretty sure Theo still has the scar from where Draco’s shoe hit him on the head. But anyways, after he’d ranted and paced and vowed his revenge and everlasting hatred to all things Harry, he went really quiet. He looked sad too, and mind you, it wasn’t an expression I had ever seen on his face before then.”

“So we’re pretty sure the rivalry was Draco’s way of _not_ caring about Harry,” Pansy went on, her mouth pinching at the corners. “But really, nothing and no one got him riled up the way Harry did.”

“I see,” Hermione said slowly. “So you’re saying Draco never really hated Harry, and I know Harry never regarded Draco the way he thought of Voldemort or even the other Death Eaters. He just hated him for being a prat.”

She was silent for a moment as if processing the new information. Blaise looked down at Pansy and she shrugged.

“The boys don’t hate each other,” Hermione murmured to herself, swirling a thick lock of hair around her finger. “After the War you could even say that they’re friends now, and yet they still bicker. It’s almost as if they...” Her eyes widened comically and she gasped. “ _Oh my god!_ ”

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” Pansy drawled, clapping her hands mockingly. “Really, Hermione, and here I thought you were supposed to be the brightest witch of our time. It’s a classic case of pigtail pulling.”

“You’ll forgive me for not jumping straight to that conclusion,” Hermione huffed. “It’s Harry and Draco, for heaven’s sake!”

“Don’t really see what that has to do with anything,” Pansy replied with a bored air. “Even if you’ve never thought they had a chance of becoming lovers, have you _honestly_ never considered hate-fucking?”

“Why would I?” Hermione spluttered defensively, her cheeks flushing. “What Harry does and who he does it with is his business, not mine.”

Blaise hurriedly went into a coughing fit to hide how much he wanted to fall over laughing. Hermione had to be one of the worst busybodies he’d ever met, and it was now apparent that she didn’t even _know_ she was.

“At least _I_ own up to being a nosy bint,” Pansy said under her breath.

“I suppose it does explain a few things,” Hermione continued. “And Harry _did_ stalk Draco all of sixth year.”

“Excuse me, _what_?” Blaise choked, just as Pansy cried, “I fucking _knew_ it!”

Hermione—cruel witch that she was—didn’t elaborate further, waving them off with a distracted promise to tell them later. Pansy subsided with a pout while Blaise lamented over how he’d missed out on something like _that_.

“Anyways,” Hermione went on. “If it’s really like that, what should we do?”

Pansy opened her mouth to reply and Blaise quickly slapped a hand over it, consequences be damned.

“We do nothing,” he said firmly, and then yelped as Pansy viciously bit him. He yanked his hand back and quickly put some distance between himself and the crazy harpy he considered to be one of his best friends.

“Did you just _bite_ him?”

Hermione sounded completely bowled over and Blaise might have laughed at how little she knew about Pansy, if not for the stinging pain in his poor hand. Fortunately, Pansy hadn’t bitten hard enough to break the skin, but the area around the visible indent of her teeth was throbbing agonisingly. He shook out his hand with a groan.

“ _Never_ do that again,” Pansy intoned harshly, and then reached out and grabbed his injured hand.

The sudden action caught Blaise horrifyingly off guard, but before he could shamelessly beg for mercy, Pansy was already waving her wand over the bite mark and muttering something he couldn’t quite make out. The pain in his hand receded and Blaise watched in astonishment as the mark faded away slowly until it was completely gone.

“Sorry,” Pansy mumbled, shoving his hand away from her. “I didn’t mean to bite you that hard.”

Blaise beamed, gathering Pansy against his side again. Pansy’s friendship was a bit of an acquired taste most of the time, but he’d known her long enough to be able to handle it. Pansy tended to be a little more driven by emotion than most Slytherins, a fact that she hated, and Blaise knew that she sometimes did things she immediately regretted.

“No worries,” he told her softly.

Hermione had been watching their little exchange with interest and piped in now. “What were you about to say before Blaise stopped you?”

“I was actually about to say _exactly_ what he said,” Pansy answered with a pointed look at Blaise. “Personally, I think they need to figure this one out by themselves. You know how stubborn they are too. If they find out we’re trying to match them up, they’ll probably back away and it won’t get us anywhere.”

Blaise felt mildly guilty for doubting Pansy now. Self-proclaimed nosy bint or not, she’d also been Draco’s Hogwarts-mum for years now.

“Agreed,” Hermione said with a nod. “Harry would probably get scared if we tried to interfere. He’s completely hopeless when it comes to these things.”

“Draco too,” Pansy sighed. “He’d eviscerate us if he knew we were having this discussion.”

Blissfully unaware of the thorough examination of their love lives, Draco and Harry strolled on ahead, and it seemed the Quidditch debate was over now as Ron left them to walk with Hermione. He placed a quick kiss on the side of her head and then nodded towards the pair in front. 

“I don’t think they’ve even noticed that I’m not with them anymore. Can’t they just shag already without flirting all over the place? At least then I wouldn’t have to see it.”

Pansy collapsed against Blaise in a fit of laughter and he found himself joining her after a glimpse of Hermione’s indignant expression.

“You _knew_?”

Ron looked at her with raised brows. “Er, yeah. I mean, s’not like they’re doing anything to hide it.” He laughed. “Merlin, you’d have to be an idiot not to see _that_.” He gestured to where Harry was laughing with Draco, they’re heads bent close together.

“I’m dying!” Pansy wailed, tears streaming down her face now. Ron looked even more confused and Hermione looked like she’d just swallowed a bogey-flavoured Bertie bean.

They continued on towards the common room and eventually Draco and Harry seemed to remember that they weren’t the only two people on earth. Draco latched onto Hermione at once, much to the dismay of everyone else.

“I propose we have daily study sessions in the library,” he was saying now, with a pleased Hermione nodding in agreement.

Ron shot Harry a panicked look and gave a pointed cough, to which Harry sighed.

“You know, it’s only been the first week of the school year,” he began apprehensively.

Draco raised a brow. “And your point being…?”

“Well, there isn’t any need to start studying this early, right?”

“No wonder your marks are average at best,” Draco said pityingly. “If we want to graduate with stellar results, the sooner we start revising, the better.”

“Not to mention most of us are rusty with our sixth year material as well,” Hermione put in. “Understandable, considering the circumstances, but still.”

“But…” Ron whimpered helplessly.

“How about we revise together _once_ a week?” Harry tried again, quite bravely in Blaise’s opinion. He and Pansy had wisely kept their mouths shut the whole time because truth be told, coming between Draco and lessons could bring about disastrous consequences. He was as bad a swot as Hermione, if not worse.

Draco stared at Harry for a moment and the boy hero tugged nervously at his collar. After a few more seconds, Draco eventually conceded with a sigh.

“Fine. Once a week for now, but when exams are close, you all can’t skive off.”

Harry’s smile was brilliant and Draco faltered in his steps. Blaise grinned. _So bloody predictable._

“And anyways,” Draco continued stiffly, vainly attempting to hide his discomfort. “I forgot that most of our free time needs to be focused on the concert, or I suppose we won’t be around to deal with N.E.W.T.s.”

His statement resulted in a tense silence and Hermione began to show signs of an oncoming panic attack. Harry forced out a nervous laugh and actually clapped a hand onto a surprised Draco’s shoulder.

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Malfoy. If anyone can do this, _we_ certainly can.”

No one commented on how Harry kept his arm lightly draped over Draco’s shoulder, or how Draco’s ears remained pinkened until they finally reached their destination.

The eighth year common room and dorms were a set of previously unused rooms in the West Wing, and the entrance was hidden behind a heavily enchanted tapestry that depicted a cheerful meadow.

“Gryffindorks,” Harry muttered with a sardonic smile as he tapped the left corner of tapestry with his wand, and it immediately moved aside to reveal the entrance.

“Wipe those pouts off your faces, Gryffindors,” Pansy said cheerfully as she clamoured in after Harry and Draco. “You’ll get your chance for revenge next week.”

They were greeted by an uncharacteristically empty common room and Blaise felt a sliver of unease at the eerie silence. He’d gotten rather used to the constant bustling of their shared common room, quite a pleasant change from how it had been down in Slytherin. Blaise loved his House to bits, but he could freely admit that the common room had been cold for more reasons than just being under the Lake.

“Hold on,” Hermione suddenly spoke up, audible relief in her tone. “The others said something about spending the evening by the Lake, and they’re most likely still there.”

Blaise sagged against the wall behind him as he let out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. It was times like this that made him reconsider his refusal to see a Mind-Healer. Honestly, the jumpiness was getting old _extremely_ fast.

“More room for us then,” Draco was the first to speak, and although he still sounded a tad unsettled, Blaise had to admire how quickly he’d pulled himself together.

“We should’ve joined up with them,” Harry said ruefully, climbing into the cushioned depression in the centre of the room, commonly known as the Hollow. “Let loose a little.”

“Oh, I think you’ve ‘let loose’ quite enough already, this term,” Hermione commented dryly.

“Not to mention how insufferable the batch would have been with all their questions about how practice went,” Draco added with a shudder. “Shove over, Potter. That’s my spot.”

Harry rolled his eyes but nevertheless moved over on the bench to give Draco some space. The portal door opened then, and Ginny and Luna sauntered in. Harry sighed dejectedly. “How is it that you already know our password?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ginny taunted with a cheeky grin as she looked around. “Oh, isn’t Neville here?”

“Your password-betraying boyfriend is probably at the Lake with the rest of our year,” Blaise supplied.

Ginny frowned. “It’ll be a bit more difficult to sneak down there with Filch on the prowl. And for the record, Neville didn’t betray you all, it was someone else.”

They all turned to the only other possible suspect, and he lifted his chin in defiance as if daring them to accuse him.

“Oh, yes,” Luna said serenely, before belly-flopping into the Hollow with a flourish, cushions flying everywhere. “Draco was kind enough to tell me.”

“Luna, you are a terrible secret keeper,” Draco grumbled, stretching out lithely on the bench and placing his head firmly on her lap. Luna gently sifted through the fine blond locks and he sighed.

“They would have found out eventually. There’s quite a swarm of hollypocks flitting about your head,” she told him gravely. “They are a sure sign of guilt.”

“Of course, Luna,” Draco mumbled distractedly, giving another sigh.

“Malfoy, are you _purring_?”

Draco cracked open an eye to look at Harry. “You try not to make a sound. Feels bloody brilliant.”

“I’ll never get over how weird that friendship is,” Ron remarked with a shake of his head. “Luna and Malfoy, who’d have ever guessed?”

“It isn’t any weirder than the other friendships that have sprung up since the War,” Blaise answered sagely. “Like I said, nothing better than a couple of near-death experiences to bring people together.” Even though he said it in jest, Blaise knew there was a great deal of truth in it. When you’ve been through the colossal amount of shite they have, you tend to form some bonds.

Ginny gave a startled yelp and glared daggers at Draco. “I cannot believe you just slapped my hand away.”

“You were trying to touch my hair,” he answered as if it was obvious, and Ginny huffed.

“I should go anyways.”

Pansy smirked. “Do try not to keep Neville out too long. Even decorated war heroes need their beauty sleep.”

Ginny left after a quick round of byes, but Luna remained. She continued to pet Draco and Blaise noted that it really seemed to be affecting their dear Chosen One. Draco certainly wasn’t making it easy for Harry, with all the sighs and mewls leaving his mouth. Harry’s eyes were glazed over as he watched, mouth hanging slightly open, seemingly unable to stop clenching and unclenching his fists.

Blaise would later account what happened next to complete foolhardy on his account. He knew better than to mess with Harry when Draco was mere metres away, but apparently his stunning good looks hadn’t come with common sense and for reasons unknown, he found himself throwing himself at Harry’s legs.

“Harry!” Blaise exclaimed, leaning his chin on one of his knees. “How are you, good soul?”

“Not too bad at the moment,” he answered with a grin. “You?”

Blaise was sure he could actually _feel_ a burning gaze on the back of his neck and he knew that Draco was watching their little exchange now. “Oh, all’s good on my side, thanks for asking.” Blaise looked up at Harry and made sure to bat his lashes for all they were worth. “Say, Harry, fancy a shag?”

Harry choked. “Godric, you get right to the point, don’t you?”

“Mhmm,” Blaise nodded and his chin rubbed against the knee it was still pressed against. “So how ‘bout it? I’ll make it worth your time.”

Before Harry had a chance to even twitch, Blaise was being yanked back by his hair none too gently. He tilted his head back on instinct, trying to alleviate the pain as much as he could, and was met with a pair of stormy grey eyes. Call him depraved, but really it was all rather hot.

“Draco, my love–”

“How the mighty have fallen, eh Potter?” Draco cut in, ignoring Blaise completely, though he kept his hand firmly curled around a clump of Blaise’s hair. “Shacking up with Blaise now?”

Blaise pouted slightly. Well now, that wasn’t very nice.

To make matters worse, Harry immediately got that creepy fanatic gleam in his eyes. They’d long since diagnosed it as a symptom of his saviour complex.

“What exactly is wrong with Blaise?” he demanded, springing to his feet with arms crossed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Draco drawled, finally letting go of Blaise’s head. “Maybe the fact that he’s practically slept with the whole of Hogwarts? I didn’t know that slags were your type, Potter.”

Much to his surprise, Blaise actually felt a twinge of hurt at the blunt statement, which was odd considering Draco hadn’t said anything untrue. Blaise probably called himself a slag on a daily basis; he practically wore it as a title of honour.

“You’re supposed to be his friend!” Harry shot back heatedly, his eyes flashing fire. “How can you say something like that?”

Draco swallowed visibly and looked away, mumbling, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Listen,” Blaise tried to interject. “I’m not–”

“Well, what did you mean?” Harry paid him no mind, still glaring at Draco.

Draco lifted his chin defiantly, but Blaise could see that his bottom lip had the slightest tremble to it, even as he met Harry’s gaze head-on. “I didn’t mean to call him a slag,” he uttered lowly and wrapped his arms protectively around himself. “He’s my best friend, for Salazar’s sake, but it’s not like he’d ever make a good boyfriend.”

“You’re terrible.” The disappointment was evident in Harry’s voice and Draco’s expression went carefully blank. “How can you say that about your friend?”

Draco’s throat worked visibly but no words came out. The silence that followed was oppressive and the others watched on uncomfortably. Pansy shot Blaise a fierce look that pretty much screamed, ‘ _Fix this, you idiot!_ ’

He got to his feet quickly and insinuated himself between the two. “Harry, my dear boy, there is no need for such dramatics, and Draco, my heart, stop acting like someone’s killed your crup. Everything’s fine.”

“But he–”

Blaise lifted a hand and Harry cut off with a huff. “Much as your concern touches me, I don’t really need it right now. Everything he said was true after all; I am a bit of a slag.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Draco flinch. “Draco, I know that when you’re angry you don’t think before you speak, but you haven’t hurt me. I’m _not_ good boyfriend material and Harry isn’t exactly a fuck-and-move-on kind of bloke, right?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “One-offs aren’t really my thing.”

“Then we’re all good here!” When all Draco and Harry did was stare at each other whilst awkwardly shuffling their feet, Blaise sighed. “Salazar, sit down, for fuck’s sake. Why am I even friends with you emotional twats? You’re worse than _Pansy_.”

“Hey!”

“I do have one more question though,” Blaise said after a pause, when the two were seated stiffly next to each other. They looked at him questioningly. “Draco, fancy a shag?”

It wasn’t unexpected when two pillows simultaneously hit him in the face.

A while later, Draco came ambling over to where Blaise was half-asleep against a pile of cushions. Luna had long since left and most of the batch had come back, adding a comforting low hum to the room.

“Blaise…” Draco murmured quietly, rousing him from his not-sleep.

Blaise blinked into wakefulness with a yawn. “Hmm, what is it?”

Rather than answer, Draco fell down beside him and forced Blaise’s arm around him. Blaise wanted to smile at that. Only Draco could bring aggression into a cuddle fest.

“You know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that I’d never question your lifestyles?”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco breathed against Blaise’s shoulder. “You said that it didn’t hurt you but I saw it in your eyes. You were lying.”

Blaise ran a hand soothingly through Draco’s hair. He normally hated when people mussed it up, but times like this were when he’d put up with it.

“Sometimes it is a bit lonely,” Blaise admitted quietly. “To think of a life like Mum’s ahead of me.”

Draco bit his lip. “You could always…”

“Change?” Blaise filled in. He shook her head. “I don’t want a relationship now, or ever. It’s too much hassle.”

Draco frowned but didn’t say anything. They lay together in silence and Blaise felt his eyes begin to droop once more, the feel of a warm, firm body pressed against him lulling him to sleep better than a Calming Draught ever could. However, just as he was about to conk out completely, Draco wriggled out from under his arm and abruptly took his delicious body heat with him. Blaise leered.

“Enough cuddling for you then, oh Hufflepuff in Slytherin robes?”

“Fuck off.”

* * *

“Remind me why they aren’t shagging again?”

The quiet voice drew Blaise’s attention away from the sordid novel he was reading. Things were getting quite steamy between the prince and his valet, but Blaise could always give some of his time to the lovely Theo Nott.

“They, as in?” He was being purposefully obtuse, he knew, and Theo gave a sardonic smile as he nodded towards Draco’s bed opposite. He and Harry were seated next to each other, poring over a Quidditch magazine. Apparently they’d gotten over their little spat from earlier.

And apparently Theo was going to pretend that their little moment in the Great Hall hadn’t happened.

“Because they’re the most stubborn, most in denial, most oblivious pair of blokes you’ll ever find,” Blaise replied with a shrug, marking his place with a bookmark and placing the novel on his bedside table.

“At least they seem happy,” Theo murmured and for a moment Blaise thought he saw a flicker of envy in his dark eyes. It was gone so quickly though, that he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“You were out partying with the others?” Blaise asked as Theo climbed into his own bed on Blaise’s left.

Theo scoffed. “Hardly.” He lifted the book he was holding; _Wuthering Heights_. “I was reading.”

Blaise tilted his head. “And you couldn’t read in the dorm or common room? Where exactly were you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Theo settled back against his pillows. “But I enjoy reading by the Lake. It’s more peaceful. Relaxing.”

He opened his book, clearly dismissing any more conversation, but Blaise found himself wanting to continue. It wasn’t even for the fact that he’d decided to shag the boy; he genuinely wanted to have a conversation with him. Come to think of it, they hadn’t had a proper one in years. The last time must have been back when they were still children growing up together. Could they even be considered _friends_?

“Is the book any good?”

Theo looked up with an incredulous expression on his face, as if he could hardly fathom why Blaise was speaking to him.

_In for a Knut, in for a Galleon_ , Blaise figured and clambered out of his bed and into Theo’s. Theo stared at him warily but didn’t protest even as he made himself comfortable amongst his pillow.

“It’s not bad.”

“Hmm?” Blaise wondered if it was taking things too far to discreetly sniff at his pillows.

Theo shifted uneasily. “You asked about the book, and I said it’s not bad,” he articulated rather defensively.

“What’s it about?” Blaise leant closer and Theo stiffened.

“It’s–” He cleared his throat. “It’s a love story, about what happens when you love too passionately.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as one for reading romances,” Blaise mused, feeling benevolent as he leant back to give Theo breathing space.

“I suppose I don’t give that impression, yes,” Theo conceded, closing his eyes. “But I enjoy them.”

Blaise could see Draco giving him a piercing look from across the room and even Harry’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously. The other two members of their dorm were busy with their own devices; Ron was trying to surreptitiously steal candies off Harry’s bedside table, while Justin Finch-Fletchley was sobbing over a book. Blaise sent a quick wink over to the pair opposite and Draco’s frown deepened.

“Blaise, come here for a moment. I want to speak to you about something,” he called over imperiously. Harry smoothly moved to his own bed and was it Blaise’s imagination or had he squeezed Draco’s hand on the way?

“Talk to you later,” Blaise told a startled Theo and the boy gave a quick nod before quite literally burying his nose in his book.

“What ho, Draco. You summoned?” Blaise flopped at the foot of the bed and then crawled to sit next to him. Draco flicked his wand and Blaise guessed that he’d cast a Privacy Charm.

“Cut the crap, Blaise. What did you think you were doing back there?”

Blaise scowled, rankled by Draco’s tone. “I believe I was in the middle of a conversation that you rudely interrupted.”

“Stay away from Theo,” Draco continued sharply. “I saw the way you were looking at him, and I’m not going to sit back and watch you seduce him.”

Blaise let out a mocking laugh, leaning right into Draco’s face. “Draco, you kinky bastard. Who ever said anything about you watching?” Draco’s eyes widened and he seemed unable to respond for a moment, before a look of absolute fury took over his features and he pushed Blaise roughly away from him.

“I’m not fucking around here, Zabini,” he growled.

Unaffected by Draco’s little tantrum, Blaise continued with a bored air. “If you must know, I _am_ planning on shagging him, and if we do, it’ll be because he wants it.” He gave a sharp smile. “I don’t make a habit of taking people against their consent, in case you didn’t know.”

“I never said you did,” Draco hissed. “There’s no need to be vulgar.”

Blaise shrugged insolently. “It’s none of your business anyways. You aren’t Theo’s guardian and he can make his own decisions.”

Draco snarled. “Stay the fuck away from Theo if you have even the slightest sense of morals.”

Blaise almost felt as if he’d been slapped, Draco’s harsh words reverberating unpleasantly through his head. He knew what people thought of him; of how they thought him incapable of caring about anyone but himself. ‘ _Just like his mother’_ was left unspoken, but he knew. He also knew that his conduct did nothing to alleviate such thoughts, but Draco had never seemed to care.

Until now.

Blaise gave an ugly laugh, cold and forced. “I thought you knew me, Draco. I have no morals. And don’t worry, _when_ I fuck Theo, I’ll be sure to let you know. But really, rather than sticking your pointy little nose into my business, shouldn’t you do something about your little Harry-problem?”

Draco paled and Blaise knew it was a low blow, bringing Harry into this, but he was just so _angry_ with Draco right now. “Are you ever planning on making a move or will you continue to pathetically follow him around like a crup after his master?”

Blaise moved away just in time to avoid a hit and a vindictive part of himself crowed over having pissed Draco off so badly that he was actually resorting to physical violence. 

“Are we done here? I really do need to get some beauty sleep, you know.” Blaise gave an exaggerated yawn.

Draco sneered. “Get off my bed.”

“Gladly.”

Blaise knew it was childish but he couldn’t help _accidently_ dropping a couple of pillows on the floor as he moved back to his own bed. When he chanced a glance back, he saw that Harry was back beside Draco, who looked quite a bit shaken.

Blaise refused to feel bad though, so he scoffed and turned onto his side, facing Theo, who was staring intently at his book. Every now and then he’d wrinkle his nose like a rabbit and Blaise was absolutely enchanted. He would have never attributed Theo with the word ‘adorable’, but that’s exactly what he was in that moment. Nosy, overbearing, so-called best friends were soon forgotten in lieu of the soothing act of watching Theo read, until finally Blaise drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Things were tense afterwards, with Draco alternating between ignoring his very existence and passive-aggressively dropping hints here and there revolving around him and Theo.

It made practice awkward but in a way, it was a bit of a blessing in disguise. Draco was too busy staying true to his vendetta against Blaise to squabble with Harry, only speaking to him if he had a query. He listened to Blaise’s instructions well enough, and Harry, uncomfortably caught in the middle as he was, meekly followed along.

Lupin had already mastered his part and it seemed that Snape had a secret calling as a drummer with the way he’d picked up his own part surprisingly quickly. Without the need to see to the professors much, Blaise was able to devote all his time to the two guitarists.

“I need a break,” Draco announced to no one in particular, stretching out his fingers with a grimace after a rather satisfactory practice. His delicate fingers certainly didn’t agree with the tough guitar strings and it wasn’t all that surprising to see that some of the tips were bleeding. Harry had noticed this as well, and Blaise pretended to be looking away as he tenderly picked up Draco’s hands and healed each finger one by one.

Any other day, Blaise might have refused to give a break just to be contrary, but the boys really had been working hard that day, so he decided to let it slide, grunting in agreement.

“So, we’ll just be going then…” Harry regarded Blaise warily as if he would suddenly jump up and try to keep them back, but Blaise merely waved a hand dismissively at him.

“Go. Have fun with grumps over there.”

Draco scowled from where he was standing by the door, but he didn’t say anything. The two exited the room, leaving Blaise to clear up the practice station, although ‘clear up’ might be a bit of an exaggeration. All he had to do was place the instruments in the large storage cupboard the Room had provided, and lock its door. The cupboard was easily required into existence for each practice and even if someone else managed to do so, Blaise had the key. They didn’t _think_ sabotage was likely, but with all that was at stake, they weren’t taking any chances.

Once he was done, Blaise left the room, waiting for a moment until the door disappeared into the walls before making his way down the corridor. He sighed as he contemplated whether he had the energy to get back to the common room. He felt dreadfully tired for some reason, though he knew it was more of an emotional drain than a physical one. His fight with Draco still stung even after all these days and truth be told, he missed the blond bastard.

The day was a pleasant one, the Sun cheerfully beating down from a nearly cloudless sky and a crisp breeze gently announcing its presence every now and then. Students were milling about happily around the grounds, appreciating the good weather, and Blaise decided to follow their example and get some fresh air. He’d been stuck inside all day and the feeling of lethargy plaguing him now was decidedly unpleasant. Pansy and the rest were likely lounging somewhere in the courtyard but Blaise inexplicably found himself shying away from their company and heading to the Lake instead. He’d find a preferably quiet spot and maybe even dip his feet into the water for a bit.

Blaise came across a couple of mixed sixth years as he carefully clambered down the path to the Lake, and he grinned at them. He remembered this particular lot coming to him for love advice a few days ago and while he hadn’t been sure why straight females were coming to his gay arse for help, he’d still been more than happy to help out as much as he could. Judging from the blinding smiles directed his way now, he figured he’d done them right, but just to be certain, he teasingly said, “Ladies, I must say you are absolutely _glowing_. Care to share?”

Most them blushed prettily and giggled, but one particularly bold-looking Gryffindor smirked coyly as she leant up to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Your advice worked out splendidly. My boyfriend practically _worships_ me now.”

“As he very well should,” Blaise nodded in satisfaction, pleased with his work. Honestly, if he could only make a career out of this, he’d be set for life. As the other girls offered their thanks, Blaise inclined his head modestly, and only then did he notice the lone boy with them. A boy who was looking at him with a blatant invitation on his face; lips pursed together demurely but doing nothing to belie the sly look in his downcast eyes, sneaking sideways glances like nobody’s business.

Blaise was about to take him up on his offer—Merlin’s saggy tits, it had been _too_ long since his last shag—when his attention was suddenly caught by a lone figure walking along a less frequented bank of the Lake, and somehow he felt sure that he knew _exactly_ who it was. Moving as if under an _Imperius_ , Blaise brushed aside the boy and his offer with a not so apologetic smile and excused himself from the group.

Taking long strides as a ways of hurrying while not breaking into an outright run, Blaise went in the direction the figure had disappeared in. The trees grew more densely here, forming secretive little nooks that were perfect if one wanted some uninterrupted peace. _Or some uninterrupted shagging,_ his mind supplied wickedly, as he rounded a veritable wall of trees and finally came across Theo.

“I had a feeling it was you,” Blaise said softly, a genuinely fond smile tugging at his lips as he took in the endearing sight before him. “So this is your little reading spot?”

Theo was snuggled up against an old, gnarled tree, its roots long since exposed by the elements to create a sort of cot. He looked up with a small smile, placing his book idly on his lap and marking his place with his finger. Blaise wanted to pat himself on the back for having pulled Theo’s attention away from the novel in the first place.

“Out for an evening walk?” Theo mused, looking around with the slightest hint of surprise as if it were unusual to see Blaise alone.

“I was, but perhaps I could join you instead?”

Theo looked torn for a moment, biting his lip in a rather delectable manner, and Blaise worried that he’d pushed too hard. He didn’t want the other boy bolting before they even got anywhere.

“Alright,” Theo finally conceded, giving Blaise another sweet, hesitant smile. He scooted over a bit and Blaise slowly lowered himself to sit beside him. The roots allowed for more than one person to sit inside its shelter, but even then it was a bit of a squeeze. Blaise felt unexpectedly nervous as he found himself pressed gently against the other boy but Theo didn’t seem to mind.

“Maybe you could read to me?” Blaise wasn’t sure why he’d asked such a strange thing, but he figured it was worth it when Theo’s face lit up with an uncharacteristic spark of excitement.

“Really?”

Blaise chuckled. “Really.”

So Blaise made himself comfortable and Theo began. He seemed to have decided to simply continue from where he’d left off, and this meant that Blaise was completely lost when it came to what was happening or who the characters even were, but he didn’t mind in the least. Instead of paying attention to the actual words, he let the low voice wash over him. Just as Theo’s visage when he was reading had soothed Blaise the night of his and Draco’s fight, his voice too had the same effect and soon Blaise’s eyes were drifting close, his mind lulled into a sense of calm.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to find Theo gently shaking him by the shoulder, his face inches away. Blaise jerked upright with a gasp and Theo hurriedly pulled away before he could have his head bashed into.

“How long was I out?”

Theo’s lips quirked in amusement as he slowly got to his feet, tugging a disorientated Blaise up with him. “Only about half an hour. I would’ve let you sleep some more but it’ll be dinner time soon.”

Blaise tugged at his sleeve somewhat sheepishly. “I’m sorry I fell asleep like that. I swear it wasn’t because I was bored or anything.”

Theo shrugged, still looking faintly amused. “I figured as much. You looked tired even before I began and I was already expecting you to nod off. Although, I must say, the drool was not as expected,” he added, pointing to a suspicious wet spot on his left shoulder.

Blaise wanted to drown himself in the Lake right then and there. Not only had he fallen asleep on Theo, but he’d fallen asleep _on_ Theo.

“I didn’t mind though,” Theo reassured him. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been sleeping fitfully these past few nights, so I figured a nap wouldn’t be remiss.”

Blaise blinked in surprise at that. True, he hadn’t been sleeping all that well these days but it was nothing to the nightmares he used to have, and surely not enough to notify the others. Theo must have followed his train of thought as he flushed faintly, looking away in obvious embarrassment.

“I don’t sleep that well myself,” he offered up hesitantly, and Blaise nodded.

“I doubt any of us do,” he replied stiffly, and then cleared his throat. “I guess we should get back to the castle?”

“We should.”

Together the two made their way back, and Blaise was glad to leave the treeline behind. Twilight had already arrived, and the shadows cast by the trees around the Lake had been rather eerie. They were approaching the Great Hall when Blaise saw Draco coming towards them from the other direction, Harry and Ron in tow. Draco frowned darkly when he noticed that Blaise was the one with Theo, and he looked like he was about to say something when another figure suddenly stepped in front of Blaise and effectively obstructed his view of Draco.

“Zabini,” the boy more or less _purred_ , and Blaise realised that he was the one from before. Having been unable to give him a proper perusal earlier, Blaise did so now, taking in the boy’s slender build, dark blond hair and intriguing, almost feline, amber eyes. He certainly made up a pretty picture and it suddenly struck Blaise that he’d made his acquaintance prior to the beginning of the term, at Flourish and Blotts. He’d helped him to find some of his textbooks whilst possibly propositioning him a couple of times as well. Though if Blaise recalled correctly, the boy had responded shyly to his advances, quite different from the bold creature in front of him now.

“And you are… Julian?” Blaise was wildly guessing here, his memory of their initial meeting hazy now, but the boy instantly looked pleased so apparently he was correct.

“I was thinking that maybe… I could take you up on that _offer_ from before.” Julian looked up at him demurely, expression a complete contrast to the wicked look in his eyes. “If you’re still up for it.”

Blaise felt Theo stiffen at his side and make a motion as if to move away, and acting on impulse, his hand shot out to grasp Theo’s in a gentle but firm clasp. Julian gave a sharp inhale, eyes narrowing in on their joined hands, but his smile remained in place, though its brightness diminished a bit.

“Actually, I was just heading in for dinner,” Blaise replied in a polite tone, neatly sidestepping Julian and tugging Theo along with him.

“Yes, but after dinner.”

Blaise frowned at his persistence, never having been one to encourage clinginess. He looked back over his shoulder briefly. “ _We_ have other plans, sorry,” he said, feeling not sorry at all as he left the boy spluttering behind him.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Theo’s cheeks were tinged the slightest red as he nodded down at their still-clasped hands and Blaise immediately let go in shock. Theo brought his hand to his chest and cradled it as delicately as if it were an injured bird, staring at Blaise with troubled eyes.

“Sorry,” Blaise blurted out, feeling unnerved by the strange look that had come to Theo’s face.

“It’s fine.”

Silence descended on them and Blaise fought back the urge to shuffle his feet as he willed back his discomfiture. They were standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, and already people were beginning to send them speculative looks, but for possibly the first time in his life, Blaise wasn’t sure of the best way to proceed, his usual self-confidence and ready tongue having apparently deserted him.

It was Theo who eventually broke the silence.

“I’ll just be headed to the Slytherin table then,” he said quietly, eyes averted. “See you in the dorms.” He turned away, but Blaise reached out unthinkingly and snagged his sleeve, arresting his motion better than a _Petrificus_.

“I’ll sit with you tonight.” The words were out before Blaise could properly deliberate them and Theo froze, turning back to him with a frown. He didn’t look all that pleased by Blaise’s suggestion and wasn’t that a rather hefty blow to his pride, Blaise thought ruefully. Finally, Theo shrugged.

“If you want,” he said softly and abruptly walked away without so much as a backward glance. Blaise huffed out a small laugh as he went after him, wondering if this was how a crup felt when it obediently followed after its master hoping for a pat on the head.

Theo took a seat at his usual place at the far end of the table, and Blaise slid in beside him, eyeing the dinner spread with approval. The house elves had seen fit to provide a number of vegetable dishes, which suited Blaise just fine considering he wasn’t a big fan of meat in the first place. Quickly, he filled up his plate, covertly watching as Theo did the same and nodding his approval when he saw that the boy seemed to have a healthy enough appetite regardless of his slender frame. Theo made as if to open his book before shooting Blaise a startled look and closing it again with a soft snap.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, staring at his plate. “I’m used to dining alone so I usually end up reading whilst I eat. That was rude of me.”

“Oh, no,” Blaise said, perhaps a bit more emphatically than was needed, spearing a piece of carrot on his fork. “If you want to read, you should. It’s no bother to me.”

Theo bit his lip again, and Blaise was starting to see this habit as one that would eventually lead to his downfall.

“Or, we could talk about something,” Blaise suggested. “Tell me about how _Wuthering Heights_ went. You’re onto a new book, so you finished it?”

Theo chewed on his lip contemplatively for a moment. “Alright,” he said finally, and Blaise counted it as a victory when the boy began the most impassioned speech he’d heard from him in… well, in the whole of their acquaintance.

And from across the room, Draco was watching them. He didn’t look angry, nor was he frowning even. He just watched impassively, but for some reason, Blaise didn’t like the speculating look in his eyes.

* * *

Another week passed, much as the last had, with the exception of Blaise spending his evenings with Theo now. They’d developed a bit of a routine, in fact.

As soon as practice concluded in the evening, Blaise would quickly make his way to Theo’s reading spot. They’d sit together and Theo would read to him. Sometimes Blaise would fall asleep like that first time, but most of the time he ended up listening, completely enthralled. Theo really did have a lovely reading voice and it was no hardship to listen to him for any amount of time. Unexpectedly, Blaise also found himself invested in the actual stories being read, and Theo was always kind enough to fill him in on the parts he’d missed, before beginning each day.

They would read together until dinner and then Blaise would join him at the Slytherin table or cajole him over to Gryffindor. At first Theo had been hesitant, but the others had been welcoming and soon put him to ease. Theo had never been the most social of people, and Blaise was pretty sure he never conversed with anyone outside the classroom apart from Draco – a fact that _might_ have elicited a small fissure of jealousy when he’d first realised it. Before he’d begun his campaign to win Theo over, Draco was probably the only _friend_ Theo had in the whole of Hogwarts, and Blaise was surprised to find that he cared whether Theo got on with the people he now considered his close friends.

So it was with not a small amount of pride that he watched him engage in intellectual debates with Hermione or long Quidditch rants with Harry and Ron (and really, who would have thought Theo kept up with the Quidditch League of all things). This friendliness was carried on to the common room and soon it was commonplace to find him seated in the Hollow with the rest of them or beating Ron soundly at Wizarding chess.

And to make a good week even better, Draco decided to make up with him one morning after breakfast, apologising for ‘being an utter twat’ and even going so far as to saying that he’d missed Blaise.

“I’ll admit I feel rather bereft without you,” Draco said with an _almost_ shy smile and Blaise responded by giving him a hearty smack to the backside.

“Let bygones be bygones as I always say.”

Draco glared menacingly, a hand rubbing at his arse. “I’ll let that smack go just this once, Blaise, but try that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Duly noted. Now, let’s get back to the others before they leave us behind.”

“Unlikely,” Draco scoffed with the air of someone who truly believed he’d never be left behind. Blaise almost wished he had his friend’s confidence, but then again, Draco had always been the most trusting of their lot. An odd trait to be found in a Slytherin to be sure, but rather flattering when such confidence was only bestowed on those Draco truly saw as his own.

The others were waiting for them near the gates, and Blaise had to fake a yawn in order to hide his smile when Harry immediately made a beeline to Draco’s side. For his own part, Draco didn’t seem to even be _trying_ to hide his feelings, face lighting up brighter than the Great Hall during the Opening Feast.

“So obvious,” Pansy muttered under her breath as she took Blaise’s arm. “It might be adorable if it wasn’t so nauseating.”

“Cold as always, my dear,” Blaise quipped back lightly, and then grinned at Theo when he appeared on his other side. “I’d offer you an arm but as you can see, I’m already one down and it might be in bad taste to stroll into Hogsmeade with both occupied.”

Pansy snorted but made no further comment, and Blaise wondered idly if telling Theo just how delectable he was looking at the moment constituted ‘moving too fast’. He’d reigned himself in of late, hoping to lull Theo into a sense of security before making a proper move, and as it wasn’t his usual _modus operandi_ , Blaise was constantly wondering if his campaign of seduction was moving along or not.

“I’m fairly certain no one would be surprised even if you did,” Theo replied unexpectedly, his narrow shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Although rather than Pansy, I should think a second companion of the _male_ variety might be more of what the general public would expect from you.”

Pansy practically exploded with glee and her chortling effectively drowned out any attempts of retaliation. Not that Blaise was thinking of retaliating, too unnerved by the truly surprising barb to manage an appropriate counter.

“I meant no offence,” Theo added a beat later.

Blaise’s eyes narrowed. There was an almost petulant look lurking deep in Theo’s eyes and for a wild moment, he pondered the possibility that the boy was _jealous_. That the idea pleased him more than it should have was best left for later examination.

Hogsmeade was already teeming with students when they got there, and Hermione despaired at grabbing a table at the Three Broomsticks, which would undoubtedly be packed to the brim. Blaise had an errand to run and he decided that this was the perfect moment to make his excuses and slip away without rousing too much suspicion. However, as he passed Theo, he couldn’t resist a little self-indulgence. He was only human after all.

“Save me a seat,” he whispered against the enticing shell of Theo’s ear and gave his hand a departing squeeze before sweeping away. A quick glance back had Blaise smirking with satisfaction. He hoped someone asked Theo why he was blushing so furiously.

The Hogsmeade Post Office was not a place that was often visited by the students of Hogwarts and Blaise was no exception. It was always easier to receive owls directly at Hogwarts but it also afforded one a certain lack of privacy. Add to that his excessively nosy friends, and Blaise had little doubt that his package would have been common knowledge in a matter of minutes, had he received it in the Great Hall.

An absolutely miniscule old witch sat behind the counter. She was dressed in fetching pale yellow robes, her snow-white hair arranged around her rosy face in soft curls, and Blaise was immediately smitten. He might have been as queer as a square-shaped Galleon but adorable old witches were his weakness.

Blaise smiled charmingly as he approached the counter. “Hello there, I didn’t know such a beauty worked here or I’d have made a visit much sooner.”

The witch smiled broadly back and reached out to pat his cheek with a tiny, vanilla-scented hand. “Oh, what a cheeky young man you are! But thank you, my dear. It’s been quite some time since anyone has called this old crone ‘beautiful’.”

“I’ll have to come see you often then, to make up for the foolishness of my fellow men.”

“Away with you,” she laughed, shaking an admonishing finger at him. “Now, how can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a few things,” Blaise replied. “Have you received any post for ‘Blaise Zabini’?”

The little witch left him to check in the back and Blaise drummed on the countertop as he waited. He sincerely hoped his package had made it safely, having paid a fine price to obtain it.

“Here we are,” she announced as she returned with two parcels in her arms. She placed them on the low counter and gestured at the larger of the two. “This one has got a mighty strong Protection Charm on it, I must say. Why, I can even feel it through all of the packaging!”

Blaise picked it up with a satisfied nod and placed it in the magically enlarged pocket of his cloak. It would be safe there until he got it back to the dorm, and then he’d hide it in his trunk until it was time to give it to Theo. Picking up the other package, he ripped away the paper wrapping and smiled down at his new edition of _Anna Karenina_.

“Will that be all, my dear?” the old witch enquired politely.

Blaise nodded and placed some Sickles on that counter. “I must bid you adieu for now, but don’t think I won’t be back.” He blinked his eyelashes at her in an exaggerated manner and she tittered like a schoolgirl as she shooed him out.

Making up his mind to truly visit again, Blaise exited the shop – only to immediately collide with someone and drop his book in the process. The ‘someone’ turned out to be none other than Julian, and he stooped to pick up the fallen book, glancing at it curiously before dusting it off and handing it back to Blaise.

“I didn’t take you for one of the bookish types,” he commented with a neutral smile, evidently still feeling a tad miffed from their previous encounter.

“That’s because I’m not,” Blaise replied briskly, transferring the book into the safety of his pocket as he _should_ have done from the start.

“Then what’s with the huge novel?”

Blaise inwardly sighed. Julian really was one for persistence.

“Theo and I are reading it at the moment, and he’s already extremely enamored with it,” Blaise explained, deciding that the sooner he quenched Julian’s curiosity, the sooner he could get back to the others. “Rather than force him to wait for me, I thought that I’d obtain my own copy and thus allow him to read at his own pace. He can continue on with other books until I’m done with this one.”

Julian’s finely-shaped eyebrows shot to his forehead and he placed a hand on his hip as he cocked it out in a practiced manner. “Never knew Nott was so good in bed,” he mused aloud, tapping his chin with one perfectly-manicured finger. The boy certainly knew how to groom himself. “Always seemed rather a prude if you ask me.”

“Yes, well, no one asked you,” Blaise retorted sharply, a flare of protectiveness for Theo igniting at the presumptuous statement. “And what does that have to do with anything? Don’t tell me you’re interested in him?” The thought brought an unpleasant taste to his mouth.

“Good god, _no_.” Julian shuddered overdramatically. “Nott _is_ rather good-looking, I’ll give you that, but much too passive for my taste.” He leant forward conspiratorially. “Or perhaps I’m wrong? How is he, _really_?”

“Not _really_ any of your business, now is it?” Blaise replied with a tight smile, drawing up to his full height so that he was fairly _looming_ over Julian’s shorter frame. “Theo’s bedroom habits are for him to know, and for me to hopefully find out one day. You, on the other hand, should really mind yourself. Nosiness is not an attractive trait, pet.”

Julian blushed furiously and looked like he was about to flounce away in a strop when he suddenly stopped, comprehension alighting to his face.

“Hold on a tick,” he began slowly, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say. “You haven’t bedded him yet.” It was more of a statement rather than a question. “You’re telling me – you’re not even sleeping with Nott – and yet, you’re planning on reading that monstrosity just because he _likes_ it?!”

Blaise frowned, unsure of what he was getting at here. Before he could get a word in, Julian began to laugh helplessly. When he was done, he gave Blaise a genuine smile, wide and rather endearingly crooked, and reached up to pat him amicably on the shoulder.

“I never stood a chance, that’s for sure,” he said matter-of-factly, and Blaise was lost. “Well, I wish you luck with him. Hope you two make it in the long run.” And with that exceedingly enigmatic remark, Julian was gone.

Blaise stood there for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened. Eventually he shrugged it off and went on his way. Julian was a temperamental weirdo; the pretty ones usually were – Draco being a prime example.

When he entered the Three Broomsticks, he looked around the crowded pub until he caught sight of Draco’s hair, gleaming like a beacon from a corner booth. The others hadn’t seen him yet and so he was able to observe them uninterrupted as he approached.

Hermione and Ron were leaning against each other with the ease of a couple who had known each other for years, and probably loved each other just as long. In stark contrast, sitting opposite, Draco and Harry were the very epitome of mutually pining idiots; all sneaky glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking, and ‘accidental’ touches. Pansy was quiet for once, leaning back in her seat as she observed the table as a whole. It was then that Blaise realised that his snarky goddess of a best friend was _lonely_ , and that for one who took pride in his ability to read people, he should have seen it a mile away. It was in the wistfulness of her gaze as she watched the others, envious and yearning all at once; a strange mesh of emotions that Blaise wasn’t versed in. As much as he’d have liked to do something about it, he knew that Pansy wouldn’t take kindly to any interference; he’d have to trust that she would one day find what she needed herself.

And finally, there was Theo, eating greasy chips and somehow making it all look elegant as fuck. He looked relaxed and happy in a way that he rarely did; just a regular bloke out at the pub with his friends. To Blaise’s _immense_ delight, there was an empty space next to him that might as well have had a sign pointing to it that read ‘Reserved for Blaise Zabini’, and he smoothly slid into the seat before it disappeared like a desert mirage.

“What took you so long?” Draco demanded at once, pushing a full glass of Butterbeer towards him across the table, his arm ‘accidentally’ brushing against Harry’s as he did so.

“Had some errands to run,” Blaise replied vaguely and took a long and satisfying gulp of the cold drink.

“‘Errands’ you say. Sounds ominous,” Pansy commented lightly, though her dark eyes were speculating as they ran over his body in search of a possible clue as to what he’d been up to. Blaise shrugged and offered her a smile that gave nothing away.

“So,” he began as he leaned into Theo’s space and placed his lips near his ear once more. “You actually did save me a seat.”

Theo looked like he dearly wanted to scoot away, but as Ron sat on his other side like an immovable mountain that was busy devouring a monstrous pile of chips, he was forced to physically move Blaise away. His hand was hot against Blaise’s forehead, apparently deemed the safest place to touch as he gently pushed his face back. 

“Well, you told me to,” was Theo’s mumbled reply, and Blaise delighted in the petulance in his voice.

“As I did.” Blaise tipped his head in acknowledgement even as he grinned wickedly. “Doesn’t mean you had to listen though.”

Theo huffed and turned back to his chips, licking salt and grease off of his fingers in ways that should not have been allowed outside the privacy of a bedroom. Forcing himself to look away before he could inappropriately offer Theo something entirely different to lick, Blaise met Draco’s eyes across the table. His friend sent him a significant look, nodded once towards Theo, and then smiled broadly before going back to semi-flirting with Harry. He clearly expected Blaise to have understood all that rigmarole, and he inwardly shook his head in regret.

_Undoubtedly_ prettiness did, in fact, come with its drawbacks. 

* * *

“Why are you being strange?”

Blaise flinched violently and bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood almost immediately. Draco’s low voice in his ear was _not_ a welcome surprise when he was trying his hardest to be sneaky. Mentally cursing up a storm, he schooled his features into what he hoped was an unreadable mask and turned to him.

“And by strange, you mean…?” Blaise let his sentence trail off as he pointedly walked _past_ his trunk to grab the copy of _Anna Karenina_ that he’d left on his bedside table. He’d made it about half way through in the week since he’d got it, but had no intention of reading it at the moment; the first edition _Anna Karenina_ in his trunk was what he’d snuck up to get, after all, and Theo was patiently waiting in his reading nook for Blaise to return from ‘a trip to the loo’.

At least, that had _been_ the plan right until Draco had apparently gotten it into his pretty, little head to follow after him like some kind of shameless twat—which he most definitely was. Blaise hadn’t even spoken to him when he’d passed him and Harry in the corridor outside the common room, merely offering up a distracted wave as he’d rushed past, and it was almost impressive how Draco had managed to shadow him completely undetected. As it were, in the face of this unexpected obstacle Blaise would have to seriously reconsider his options now.

“You’re trying to sneak but failing badly,” Draco tilted his head in consideration, eyes roving Blaise’s face as if it held all the answers. He fervently hoped it didn’t. “And taking into account how good you are at being a sly bastard, I find it interesting that I was able to catch you in the act.”

“And what act is that, darling Dray?” Blaise batted his eyelashes mockingly.

“I wouldn’t know,” Draco replied airily. “I have no clue what you came up to do, but it certainly wasn’t to get that novel.” He sent said book a scornful look, and Blaise hugged it protectively to his chest.

“No need to take your misguided suspicions out on an innocent literary work,” Blaise said dryly, wondering if there was even the slightest chance of getting Draco to leave him in peace. Theo’s one free period for the day would end in a meagre hour, and then he’d be swamped with classes and _extra credit_ classes—bloody overachiever that he was—until dinner, after which Blaise would be busily whipping the band into shape.

“What are you up to?” Draco _demanded_ , and Blaise could feel his patience rapidly leaving him. He knew that he could always give Theo his gift some other day, but he absolutely _refused_ to be foiled by Draco. Hell would freeze over before he allowed _that_ to ever happen.

“I have a gift for Theo,” Blaise eventually said, some part inside him urging him to just be honest if it meant getting back to Theo quicker. He tossed _Anna Karenina_ onto his bed and swiftly made his way to his trunk and pulled out what he’d really come for. When he held it up for Draco to see, his friend stared blankly back at him, grey eyes almost dazed in appearance. Blaise clicked his tongue in disgust.

“You wanted to know, didn’t you? Well, here you are.”

Draco visibly shook himself and took an almost tentative step closer, eyeing the package as if he expected it to bite him at any moment. “What is it?” he asked in a hushed tone better suited to being in the presence of Merlin himself. Really, Blaise thought with a reluctant smile, it was so difficult to stay angry with Draco sometimes.

“It’s a first edition of Theo’s new favourite book in its _original_ Russian text,” and if he had a healthy dose of pride in his voice, well, he damn well deserved to after all the trouble he’d gone through to get it.

“Sweet Salazar,” Draco breathed, his face suddenly flushing with colour as he looked back and forth between Blaise and the gift. “How the fuck did you get your hands on one of these?”

“Remember Maxim?”

“Was he the one with the sleek black hair all the way to his waist and legs that went on forever?”

“Who– _oh_ , no, you’re thinking Mateo. Maxim was the Russian bloke with the pretty green eyes and a single dimple on his right cheek. I sent him an owl and–”

“Wait, I thought he threatened to disembowel you if you ever contacted him again?”

“That was _Marcus_ , the swimmer from Newcastle. If I remember clearly, he tried to give you his Floo address right after threatening me, so I really don’t see how you could have forgotten him, Draco.”

“As if I’d bother to remember all your old flames that tried to turn to me afterwards,” Draco snorted. “And why do all these boys have names starting with ‘M’?”

“A happy coincidence,” Blaise replied with a shrug. “Anyways, Maxim is one of the few exes I’m still on good terms with since I set him up with his current boyfriend. I asked him if he could find one of the older editions in an antique book shop or something, but he actually managed to track down some of Tolstoy’s descendants who happened to have three original copies in their possession. I don’t know how, but Maxim got them to sell one of them to him—at an admittedly hefty price, I’ll admit—and it’s even supposed to be _signed_.”

“Blaise,” Draco said slowly, reaching out to grab his shoulder, “why in the ever-loving fuck are you here with me, when you should be giving this obscenely extravagant present to Theo?”

Blaise’s jaw dropped in pure outrage. “You’re the one who couldn’t mind his own bloody business!”

Draco pushed him towards the door. “Yell at me later, go to him now.”

A few minutes later and Blaise was lying on the grass next to Theo, panting and weakly pushing the package towards him. He _sincerely_ hoped he liked the gift after he’d almost cracked his bloody skull bringing it down for him. An unwarranted appearance of nerves had tripped him up so badly that he’d pitched head-first down the enchanted staircase. If it hadn’t been for some hasty spellwork from a group of fourth-years, well, he could have met his demise right then and there.

“What’s this?” Theo’s soft query had Blaise turning his head to look up at him. He’d picked up the package but wasn’t making any motion to unwrap it, peering down at it with furrowed brow.

“Open it and see,” Blaise replied just as softly; his stomach was churning so much that he worried he might sick up all over the grass. _Why_ he was nervous in the first place, he hadn’t the faintest clue. Perhaps it was the novelty of having put so much thought into a gift when he’d never done so with previous paramours. Words alone had usually been more than sufficient, but as often happened with Theo, it just didn’t seem to be enough. And if he was being completely honest with himself, Blaise knew deep down that this highly specific gift was in no way a frivolous seduction ploy. Theo deserved effort and he deserved nice things, maybe more so because he never seemed to ask for anything himself.

“This is for me?” Theo was now furrowing his brow at Blaise.

“Of course it’s for you,” Blaise couldn’t help laughing. “I did hand it to you, after all.”

“Actually, you nudged it in my general direction as you lay gulping on the lawn like a dying fish.”

“Theodore, just open the bloody package,” Blaise mock-growled at him, but it was probably downplayed by the fact that he was also grinning like a lunatic now. The nerves had disappeared all at once, and he watched eagerly as Theo _finally_ tore off the packaging and reached the book that lay within.

A charged silence descended on them. Theo brought the book closer to his face, hands visibly shaking as they held it with the utmost care, and Blaise’s grin grew impossibly wider. He wasn’t the slightest bit concerned as Theo opened and closed his mouth soundlessly a few times, beautiful eyes wide and… suspiciously damp.

“ _How_?” he eventually managed to croak out, voice absolutely _wrecked_ , finally placing the book back in its nest of packaging and lifting aforementioned eyes to gaze at Blaise so intensely that he felt his face actually _heat_ _up_ in response.

“Are you happy?” he asked in reply.

Theo ducked his head and gave a single, sharp nod, lips curving into an absolutely stunning smile. _Fuck me sideways_ , Blaise thought helplessly, _that smile is not good for my health._ He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck as a sudden bout of shyness overtook him. “Glad you, er, like the gift.”

Theo lifted his head so fast it gave _Blaise_ whiplash and his tone was almost feral as he said, “I _love_ it.”

“Oh,” Blaise swallowed and gave a nervous laugh. “Good. That’s… good.” Theo reached out and took his hand, effectively shutting him up before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

“Thank you. I–” Theo took a deep breath and smiled again, though this time it was more of his usual brand of quiet smiles. “Just, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Blaise replied with an amused huff, squeezing Theo’s hand back. “You said you’re happy, yeah? You like the gift and that’s thanks enough for me, you berk.”

Perhaps calling Theo a berk was not the way to go in charming the pants off him, but it got him to laugh helplessly, and Blaise took that as a win.

“This is incredible, Blaise,” Theo said after they’d finally let go of each other’s hands and he’d properly taken a look at his new book. “An original Tolstoy and signed too! I’ll treasure this until the day I die and possibly in the afterlife too.”

“It was nothing,” Blaise smirked smugly and lay down in the grass with his arms cushioning his head. “I cashed in on a favour and let’s just say it came with a lot of interest.”

“I’ll have to brush up on my Russian now and see if I remember enough to muddle through a proper read.”

Blaise gave an impressed whistle. “You know Russian?”

“My maternal grandmother is Russian, actually. I learnt a bit when I spent the summer with her a couple of years ago.” Theo stroked the book lovingly. “Although, this beast is going to be quite different from the conversational Russian I managed to pick up.”

“Considering how badly I’m struggling through the English version, you have my utmost respect,” Blaise told him seriously. “Let’s just say, the fiction that I’m used to reading is less _intricate and sophisticated language_ and more _euphemisms and steamy scenes galore_.”

“And yet you’ve managed to make it at least halfway through it,” Theo said with a contemplative tilt of his head. “How are you liking it so far? As you know, I’ve finished it—I won’t spoil it for you—and it may quite well be my favourite book now.”

“I can appreciate that it’s a masterfully written story,” Blaise answered after a few moments of contemplation. “But I don’t know if I could say that I actually _like_ it.”

“I see...”

“No no, none of that, if you please,” Blaise waggled a finger up at him. “No pouting until you hear me out first.”

Theo very maturely threw a handful of grass at him. “I do not _pout_.”

“My liking – or should I say, my _not_ liking the story is more due to personal preference than any actual slight against the narrative, characters, or Tolstoy himself,” he sat up and brushed the grass off his front. “I never read genuine love stories.”

“Genuine?”

“Proper romance, I mean,” Blaise elaborated with a disgusted scoff, waving a hand in the air. “With all the emotional turmoil and heartache and grand declarations. Where the characters are all about fucking true love and making absolutely _imbecilic_ decisions.”

“Blaise, what…”

“And then after all the hurt, they _still_ cling onto that wretched _feeling_ as if it would solve all their problems. It’s bloody ridiculous!” he spat out with enough feeling that Theo looked thoroughly taken aback and maybe even a little concerned. Blaise forced himself to exhale, realising that he’d unconsciously clenched his fists and his heart was beating wildly. He tried to smile at Theo but his mouth felt stiff and it probably came out as more of a grimace.

“I just… _prefer_ racey stories with no real worth to them,” he finally managed to say after a few horribly uncomfortable minutes of silence. “They’re easier for me to digest, one could say.”

Maybe if he threw himself into the Black Lake, the giant squid would generously drown him and he wouldn’t have to ever recall this conversation again. Surely death would be preferable to this. Theo was looking at him like he’d never seen him before, and not in the good way.

“Do you… really see love like that?” Theo asked in a painfully gentle voice, shifting closer. “I’ll admit that romance novels can be quite heavy at times, and yes, there is often an abundance of conflicted feelings and hurt, but–” he took a breath and offered up a wobbly smile. “Well, I like to think that it’s worth it in the end. All the pain makes it all the more beautiful when the characters finally come together. They go through so much and yet they still continue to love each other and I think… if someone was willing to fight for me like that, to love me unconditionally and accept all my faults, I’d be more than happy to hurt right alongside them.”

“I guess we’re more different from each other than we thought,” Blaise murmured awkwardly, a sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help the thought that he’d somehow disappointed Theo with his cynical views of love, but he also knew that everything he’d said, he truly believed and refused to take back. Theo gave a small huff of a laugh and reached out to softly punch at his shoulder.

“Having differing views isn’t a bad thing, Blaise,” he said with a bemused smile. “Why do you look like you’ve burnt down my personal library _and_ killed my favourite pet?”

“I have no idea,” Blaise admitted helplessly, mentally giving himself a firm slap to the face and then physically shaking himself for good measure. He really was acting extremely out of character and he did _not_ like it. They’d just been talking about a fictional story and here he was feeling wrung through and not even knowing _why_.

“Well, are you not fine with my being a closet romantic seeing as how you don’t agree with my views on love? Do you want to end our friendship over our differing opinions?”

Blaise reared back indignantly. “Of course not! The fuck do you take me for?”

“Case in point,” Theo shot back airily, beginning to gather his things and pack his school satchel. “I feel the same way so you can stop overthinking things and looking so downtrodden. I have to get to class now so if you’re still feeling upset for whatever reason, you should find Draco and see if he’ll indulge you with a cuddle.”

“Theo Nott, you are a menace,” Blaise told him with a beleaguered sigh, but he truly did feel better now, his sudden bout of whatever-that-uncomfortable-feeling-was retreating in the face of the teasing light in Theo’s eyes.

“It’s one of my best features,” was Theo’s deadpan response.

* * *

Blaise was the first to reach Harry as he made straight for Smith, and he quickly placed himself between them before a complete evisceration could occur. Ron was the next on the scene and he grabbed a hold of Harry from behind, restraining his arms while Hermione quickly snatched his wand away. All the windows in the room subsequently shattered and there were screams all around as people ducked to avoid the shower of glass.

“Harry, you need to calm down,” Hermione ordered, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. He was struggling violently against Ron’s hold, face red with fury.

“I swear, I’ll fucking kill him!”

Smith shrank away in fear and Blaise sent him a disgusted look; the snivelling coward. Lupin was shouting at the students to get away from the glass as he hurried to where Draco had fallen. He was gasping loudly, face screwed up in pain, and then, to Blaise’s horror, he suddenly turned onto his front and began to violently cough up what could only be blood.

“Fucking prick!” Pansy shrieked, stalking up to Smith and punching him square in the nose. A sickening _crack_ echoed through the room and he went down with a squeal like a stuck pig, blood beginning to rapidly gush out of his nose.

“Ms Parkinson, stop that at once!” Lupin snapped as Pansy began to kick the fallen Hufflepuff for all she was worth. Although thoroughly pleased by the display himself, Blaise hurriedly stepped in before Pansy could do the idiot even more damage. She was probably already looking at a detention, but pummelling Smith to an early grave would surely land her in Azkaban.

“Alright, let’s stop now,” he murmured soothingly, putting his arm around her and gently pulling her away from Smith, who was blubbering loudly now. “You’ve already avenged Draco, now let’s help calm Harry down before he blows us all up in another display of volatile, accidental magic.”

“Just wait until I get my hands on that worm again,” Pansy fumed, but nevertheless allowed herself to be shepherded over to where Harry and the rest were. Ron and Hermione seemed to have managed to calm him down a little and although he still looked poised to commit bloody murder at any given moment, he seemed to have decided to direct his attention at Draco for the time being.

Kneeling beside Draco, Harry stared down with a look of such intense anguish that Blaise was taken aback. He’d always suspected as much, but even if he hadn’t, that look alone was confirmation enough. Harry didn’t simply fancy Draco, he was completely _in love_ with him.

“Shit, Draco,” he stuttered out brokenly, running a shaky hand down the side of Draco’s face as he blinked up at Harry with glazed eyes. “ _Fuck_ , how did this happen?”

“That’s what I would like to know,” a brisk voice called out, and Blaise sagged in relief as Madam Pomfrey bustled into the classroom and quickly took charge of the situation.

She ordered the crowd that had gathered around to move back and got to work. She set Draco’s broken ribs back in place with an efficient swish of her wand and then coaxed him to down a series of potions that were supposed to clear up his internal bleeding, get rid of any bruising, and strengthen his newly restored ribs. Through it all, Harry absolutely refused to leave Draco’s side and Blaise couldn’t help feeling a little _touched_ by it all, a strange fluttering feeling in his gut as he took in the scene. Even when Pomfrey was finished and was levitating Draco away to the Hospital Wing on a magical stretcher, Harry followed after. He hadn’t even bothered to excuse himself from the class, although Lupin obviously didn’t mind.

With Draco seen to, Lupin turned his attention on to Smith, looking down at him with an expression of dislike. Under normal circumstances, Lupin was probably one of the nicest professors at the school, but Blaise thought it understandable that even he couldn’t stand a pompous arse such as Smith. Lupin pointed his wand at Smith’s bloodied face and without so much as a warning, cast a rather rough _Episkey_ that had him yelping in pain as his nose set itself back in place with a quick _snap_.

“Now, perhaps you could explain to me just how Draco got injured,” Lupin said sternly and began to set the room to rights, clearing up the shattered glass and repairing the windows. “Class is dismissed,” he added for the rest of the students, but no one made a move to leave.

Smith wiped at his face with his sleeve and sniffed. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he replied, tone sullen. He was starting to get back some of his arrogance, probably aided by the fact that Harry was no longer in the room. Blaise wanted to facepalm at his stupidity. There were still a number of people who would gladly kick him in the bollocks and even now, Pansy and Ron were stepping forward menacingly. 

“I’d like to kindly remind everyone in the room that I will not put up with any more violence,” Lupin quickly interjected.

“Isn’t this Defence though?” Seamus questioned seriously. “It’s supposed to be about violence.”

“No, it’s about _defence_ , hence the name,” Ernie countered, crossing his arms.

“Well, what about if you’re committing violence _in_ _defence_ of someone else?”

“That’s not Defence against the Dark Arts, that’s defence against whoever it is you’re defending against, and it’s _still_ violence.”

“Let’s continue this debate another time,” Lupin interrupted loudly, offering them a slightly forced smile, lips tight. “Zacharias?”

“I didn’t do it on–”

“We already _got_ that,” Pansy grit out through clenched teeth, the corners of her mouth pinching. “I can _not_ believe such an incompetent managed to land Draco in the hospital.”

After a thorough round of questioning and both useful and useless comments from the class, Lupin managed to get the whole story. They’d been practising a non-verbal variation of a Shield Charm and split into pairs. One of them was supposed to cast the shield and once they were confident with its sturdiness, the other would hit it with any non-verbal offensive spell of their liking. Somehow Draco had gotten partnered with Smith and things had gone smoothly enough until Draco had laughed at Smith for taking so long to get his shield ready. In retaliation and a fit of spite, Smith had not waited for him to get his own shield in place and hit him with the strongest _Flipendo_ he could manage. Considering how angry Smith had been at the time, it was a wonder he hadn’t knocked a hole straight through Draco’s chest.

Lupin deducted points from Hufflepuff and handed out detentions to both Smith and Pansy. Class was dismissed once again and this time everyone filed out, abuzz with the drama of the day. All but Theo, and Blaise sauntered over to where he was hunched over a scroll, scribbling furiously. He sat down next to him and peered at his work, taking in the neat, elegant handwriting and thorough notes.

“I’ll just be a minute or two,” Theo told him distractedly, only sparing a quick glance. “Just want to get these points down before I forget.”

“Take all the time you need. We don’t have anything next period anyways.”

Blaise turned in his seat to lean back against the desk, elbows resting behind him for support. He closed his eyes and tried to dispel the disturbing image of Draco’s accident from the backs of his eyelids. Salazar, he’d already seen enough blood and pain during the War, he didn’t need to be faced with it again in a _schoolroom_ of all places. Fucking Smith; he’d be having words with the prick if he dared to show his snotty face in the common room.

“Don’t do anything drastic,” Theo’s soft voice interrupted his less than friendly thoughts, and Blaise opened his eyes with an amused huff of breath.

“I didn’t know you were a Legilimens.”

Theo smiled wryly and got back to his writing. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t have been able to do it with your eyes closed. You’re just extremely easy to read.”

“Smith’s an arse,” Blaise replied simply.

“He is, but that doesn’t mean you should get yourself expelled for killing a classmate. He really isn’t worth it.”

Blaise laughed. “No, I’ll leave the attempted murder up to Harry and Pansy.”

Theo’s gaze softened. “Harry was rather _obvious_ when Draco got hurt, wasn’t he?” he said in a low voice, even though they were alone in the room.

“Yeah, he was,” Blaise replied just as softly, feeling that flutter of _something_ again, as he recalled the sheer tenderness in Harry’s expression. He wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss the matter so much now that _feelings_ were involved. It was all good fun to gossip about friends who want to shag, but that wasn’t solely the case here anymore. Discussions of love and the like were not, Blaise thought uncomfortably, something he engaged in if he could help it.

“They’ll be very happy together,” Theo continued, oblivious to Blaise’s reservations, a whimsical smile coming to his face. “If they can only stop gadding around and actually get to confessing. Perhaps this incident was the push they needed.”

“Perhaps.” The feeling in his gut seemed to intensify and Blaise shifted uneasily. “I’d still like to have a word with Smith though,” he said next in the hopes of bringing the conversation back to safer waters. “It’d be fun to shake him up a little and I _am_ rather good at issuing threats. _Very_ good with my tongue, you know,” he added playfully.

“So I’ve heard,” Theo snorted, bending forward to examine what he’d written. As he did so, a dark lock of his hair fell across his forehead and he brushed it back impatiently, only to have it fall back again.

“Here, let me.” Blaise reached to take the offending lock between his fingers and thumb and he marvelled at how soft it was. Gently, he tucked it back into place behind Theo’s ear, fingers brushing against the helix of his ear.

“There, that’s–”

“Thank you, I–”

They both cut off abruptly and with a start, Blaise realised that they were _close_. As in, they were so close that he could separately make out each one of Theo’s long, beautiful eyelashes; could see for the first time that he had the tiniest of moles at the edge of his right eye, as well as one right above the corner of his mouth.

Blaise’s hand had somehow gone from lightly touching Theo’s ear to properly cupping his face, and Theo exhaled shakily as he almost imperceptibly leaned into Blaise’s touch. His breath was warm against Blaise’s skin and his lips were moist and pink and _beckoning_. Theo’s pupils had dilated greatly and when his eyelids fell to half-mast as they locked eyes, Blaise felt a jolt of pure _want_ shoot through him. The desire in those dark eyes was unmistakable, and he knew that he couldn’t wait any longer. He _had_ to kiss him.

Licking his lips to moisten them and enjoying the audible hitch in Theo’s breath at the sight of his tongue, Blaise leaned in, fully prepared to seal the gap between them and finally get a taste. Theo moved closer too, his head tilting up invitingly as his eyes fell shut, and Blaise was surprised to find that he was suddenly nervous. He’d kissed his fair share of boys – probably too many for his scant number of years on the scene – but never had he felt this tense. All he knew was that he couldn’t mess up; he needed to give Theo the best fucking kiss of his life.

Their noses were brushing against each other now and Theo was blushing so hotly that his face felt almost feverish. Just a little closer and–

_Bam_!

Blaise jerked back as the door banged open and the motion caused him to overbalance and fall out of his seat. Theo made a wild grab at his robes but this only resulted in him being pulled over as well, and they landed in a tangle of limbs. Blaise groaned loudly as his elbow took the brunt of the fall, and then winced in sympathy when one of his knees accidentally caught Theo in the gut.

“Sorry!” squeaked a voice from the door, and Blaise almost bared his teeth at the unwelcome sight of Dennis Creevey. “Are you alright?”

“Do we _look_ alright?” Blaise spat back, sitting up and rubbing a hand soothingly along Theo’s back as he clutched at his stomach. “Sorry, love,” he whispered for his ears alone, the endearment slipping out before he could stop himself. He made a mental note to chastise himself later for being such an incorrigible flirt in the most inopportune of times. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’ll be fine,” Theo replied shortly, eyes clenched shut in obvious pain.

“Oh, dear,” Dennis blurted out in distress, hands wringing together pathetically. “Should I fetch Madam Pomfrey?”

Blaise ignored him and carefully helped Theo to his feet. His elbow was throbbing like the devil, but he paid it no heed. Theo pushed himself to stand up straight and rubbed a hand gingerly on his stomach.

“It’s fine,” he said with a small smile, not meeting Blaise fully in the eyes. “I’ll just have a bruise but it’ll go away on its own.”

“Still, maybe we should–”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Theo’s voice had a note of finality to it and he still wouldn’t look at Blaise properly. “Now, we should probably check up on Draco, see if he’s alright.”

Before Blaise could say anything else, Theo had already packed up his satchel and made it out the door, offering Dennis a kind smile on the way. Blaise stared after him and felt strangely numb.

“Um, are you alright, Blaise?” Dennis voiced his question hesitantly.

Blaise closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Just fuck off, Creevey.”

* * *

“Was he really that worried?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Blaise answered for the umpteenth time, giving Draco a sardonic look. Ever since he’d been discharged from the hospital, he’d been _relentlessly_ asking about how Harry had reacted to his accident. It was getting quite tiresome.

“Are you _sure_ he reacted that strongly, though?”

“Draco, I honestly think he’d have turned Smith into a pile of ash if Hermione hadn’t gotten his wand away from him.”

Draco nodded and looked like the kneazle that had gotten the cream.

“Maybe now’s the time to make a move?” Blaise suggested helpfully. Draco jumped forward with a yelp and slapped a hand over his mouth, frantically looking around the empty dorm room as if someone would suddenly spring out of a trunk.

“Keep your voice down!”

“Everyone’s gone down for breakfast,” Blaise pointed out when Draco had removed his hand.

“The walls have ears,” Draco returned ominously.

Blaise frowned. “The fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“It’s some Muggle expression,” Draco said as if that was answer enough.

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“It’s Muggle, we’re not supposed to understand it.”

Blaise rolled his eyes heavenward. _Salazar, give me strength._

“Anyways,” he enunciated slowly, “what I mean is, what are you so afraid of? Harry wouldn’t have reacted like that if he didn’t care for you.”

Draco immediately deflated, shrinking into himself self-consciously. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said in a quiet voice. “Harry’s like that with all his friends. It doesn’t necessarily mean what I’d… like it to mean.”

“Whatever.” It probably wasn’t very kind of him to so callously brush aside Draco’s little dilemma, but he wasn’t in a particularly benevolent mood that morning and in no state to deal with Draco being crazy on top of it all.

Ever since the aborted kiss the other day, Theo had been _weird_ with him.

Usually when things went South between Blaise and a lover, they would avoid him or just not talk to him — he was _used_ to such outcomes; expecting _and_ accepting them. Theo, however, did neither of the two. Instead, he kept _looking_ at Blaise like he wanted to say something but never did. It was extremely disconcerting and as the only solution to the matter seemed to consist of them _talking_ about it, Blaise was playing the waiting game at the moment.

Draco finished gathering up his things and they headed down to the common room together. Blaise frowned when he saw Theo off in a corner speaking with Justin. He was glad Theo was branching out more, but he didn’t particularly like the way Justin was leaning close as they talked. Nor did he like how he kept touching Theo’s arm. And he _especially_ didn’t approve of Justin suddenly whispering something in Theo’s ear that made him blush and look away with a nervous laugh.

“Theo! You coming for breakfast with us?” Blaise called over, and Theo jumped, shooting him an almost guilty look before disengaging from his conversation and walking over.

Blaise didn’t like the sudden tightening in his chest that accompanied him down to breakfast and it put him in a visibly sour mood. Theo kept giving him concerned looks but didn’t press, choosing instead to speak with Hermione about the Potions homework due that day. Draco, unfortunately for Blaise, did not seem to share that compulsion and sidled up to him the first chance he could.

“You know Finch-Fletchley was flirting with Theo, right?”

Blaise shot him a quelling look but Draco just stared back coolly. “Yes, so?”

Draco shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I’d have to be blind not to,” Blaise snapped back, feeling out of sorts. “It was rather obvious the way he was practically salivating over Theo.”

Draco hummed, eyes lifted to the ceiling. “Finch-Fletchley isn’t bad looking though. Much too redheaded for my taste, but you’ve been with him, haven’t you?”

“Yes, and your point being?” Blaise hissed through clenched teeth.

Draco shrugged again. “Nothing, I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Well, don’t.”

“My, someone is certainly testy this morning,” Draco mocked with a smirk. “You understand why you feel this way, don’t you?” He leaned in with a truly wicked look in his grey eyes. “You, my friend, are jealous.”

Blaise promptly tripped over his own feet and would have face-planted spectacularly if it weren’t for Draco quickly grabbing his arm.

“I don’t get jealous,” Blaise scoffed, once he’d regained his equilibrium. “I’d actually have to care to get jealous.” Which he didn’t. Sure, he enjoyed Theo’s company now, but when it came right down to it, he was still after him just for a shag.

Draco didn’t say anything more but he pursed his lips and gave Blaise as speculating a look as he had that first night when Blaise had sat with Theo for dinner. Blaise didn’t know why, but he _really_ didn’t want to know what Draco was thinking. 

* * *

Blaise was rummaging through his trunk for a quill later that day when Justin came into the room, looking for his Transfiguration homework that was due for the next period. Blaise spared him a grunt as a greeting and studiously ignored him as he renewed his search. He could always just borrow a quill from someone else, but he’d always been rather finicky when it came to quills. He preferred using hawk feathers to the owl feathers everyone else preferred, and he was sure he had an extra somewhere in his trunk.

“Need some help?”

Blaise looked up at Justin peering down at him. “No need.”

“Want me to wait until you’re done then?” Justin clearly didn’t understand that Blaise wanted to be left in peace. “Are you headed to the classroom afterwards? I really hope McGonagall doesn’t have us transfiguring lizards into frogs today too. I seriously hate the things, slimy little creatures. You know, I think–”

Blaise closed his eyes, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such anguish. Justin was a nice enough bloke but Merlin, the mouth on him.

“–and anyways, I’m pretty good at non-living transfigurations. I just need to get rid of my squeamishness, or at least that’s what Theo says–”

At the mention of Theo, Blaise was reminded that Justin had been making designs on him all morning, and he suddenly felt completely unprovoked anger flare up within him.

“You like Theo, don’t you.”

Justin actually shut up at that, but he soon began to splutter, face bright red. “Well… I mean, he’s really nice to look at, you know – and, I mean, I heard he was into blokes and – and…”

Blaise got to his feet then, and stepped closer to Justin, who stepped back with a nervous gulp. This continued until Justin was suddenly backed against a bed post, Blaise dangerously close. The other boy licked his lips, seemingly subconsciously, and Blaise felt a vicious sense of satisfaction at how Justin was still so obviously interested in him. They’d had some fun together during the rebuilding and perhaps they could have some more to pass the time. Blaise had hit a dry spell these past few weeks and it would probably also throw Justin off from bothering Theo again.

He regarded Justin levelly, leaning closer just to see him tremble with anticipation. His lips parted and he exhaled shakily, breaths coming in small pants now.

“Blaise…” Justin whispered, and Blaise brought a hand to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair and earning him a breathy gasp. He smirked as he remembered how much he’d enjoyed just how submissive and sensitive Justin was when things became heated. One might think that he would be bumbling and overeager, but when Blaise had decided to give him a go, he’d been delighted to discover the sensuality hidden beneath all that _Hufflepuff-ness_.

He leaned in and kissed him hard and Justin responded eagerly, hands reaching up to grip the front of Blaise’s robes, mouth falling open without hesitation. Blaise clenched his hand tighter in Justin’s hair and the other boy groaned helplessly, allowing himself to be pressed even more firmly against the bedpost. Blaise snaked a leg in between Justin’s and he was gratified to find him responding already, bucking up involuntarily. Justin reached up to wind his arms firmly around Blaise’s shoulders, and even though Blaise should have been over the moon to finally have a willing body in his arms, for some reason... he wasn’t. 

Not to say that Blaise wasn’t enjoying himself, because fuck, he certainly was and the tightening in his pants attested to this. The problem lay in the way that he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing.

He felt a tad uneasy, even as he skilfully caressed Justin’s tongue with his own until the other boy was a moaning mess. He pondered on what was lacking, allowing a hand to travel down to happily grope Justin’s surprisingly lush arse. Maybe it was just because it had been a while since he’d done this, he wondered, rubbing his thigh firmly against the growing hardness pressed against it and delighting in the way Justin was undulating smoothly against him now. Blaise’s head was starting to feel lightheaded with arousal, the end rapidly approaching with each grind, and yet his mind still whirled over what could possibly be wrong.

After a few more minutes of heated snogging and shameless grinding, Justin stiffened against him, nails digging harshly into Blaise’s shoulders. He probably would have keened loudly if it weren’t for Blaise’s mouth still firmly attached to his own, and instead his cry came out muffled as Blaise felt a splash of heat on his thigh. He held Justin firmly against him even as the other boy trembled and whimpered as he came down from his high. When Justin finally stopped shaking, Blaise resumed thrusting against him, now seeking only his own release.

The sound of a muffled thud suddenly registered in his mind, through the cloud of arousal, and even though it wasn’t very loud, it still made Blaise pull out of the kiss and stop his grinding for a moment, in spite of his unfinished state. Justin slumped dazedly back against the bed post, face flushed and pupils blown, his breathing harsh, and Blaise didn’t let go of him lest he slide to the floor in an orgasm-induced stupor. He turned to the door where he thought he’d heard the thud from and then instantly froze. An icy hand seemed to take a tight grip of his heart, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, and killing his arousal in an instance.

Draco stood at the door, eyes wide and disbelieving. For a few dreadful seconds, he didn’t move and he didn’t say anything, just continued to stare until his gaze finally turned fierce, and then he was deliberately wrapping an arm around Theo who was standing beside him.

Theo’s eyes were also wide, but rather than disbelief, they were filled with so much anguish and helpless betrayal that Blaise could hardly bear to look at them. His novel lay fallen on the ground, most probably the source of the sound Blaise had heard, and he was trembling violently, leaning against Draco as if he would otherwise crumble to pieces.

Blaise could do nothing but stare back, heart in his throat as he gently pulled away from Justin, who had finally straightened up, surreptitiously trying to fix his appearance and all the while looking extremely uncomfortable. Finally, Draco spoke.

“Let’s go, Theo.” He stooped to pick up Theo’s book and then with his arm still firmly around him, led him back down the stairs.

Justin gave an awkward cough, moving away from Blaise. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his crestfallen expression making Blaise feel like an even bigger bastard for having dragged him into this mess.

“You did nothing wrong,” he told him gruffly, pulling out his wand to cast a Cleaning Charm for him and fixing his appearance while he was at it. Justin sighed gratefully, no longer shifting about.

“Thanks.”

Blaise gave a stiff nod in return.

“I’ll, er, just be going then.” Justin gave him one more apologetic look, and then quickly hurried out the door.

Blaise moved to his own bed and flopped down onto his front. He couldn’t shake the image of Theo’s face out of his mind, and his stomach twisted each time he recalled his expression. The door opened again and Blaise moved to lie on his back, just in time to have Draco firmly straddle him and land a solid punch to his jaw.

“What the fuck, Draco!” Blaise groaned, eyes closing as his jaw throbbed painfully. He was going to have a massive bruise from that.

“You deserve more than just this, you fucktard!” Draco snarled, fist pulled back as if rearing for another punch. Blaise raised his hands in hopes of protecting his face, but no punch came as Draco dropped his fist to lightly thud on Blaise’s chest.

“How could you do that to Theo?” he whispered, and when Blaise lifted his hands off his face, he saw that his friend looked more lost than he’d ever looked before.

“I never meant to hurt him,” Blaise replied truthfully. “But you both know how I am, and what you saw shouldn’t have come as a shock.”

Draco got off him and sat at the edge of his bed, picking at the covers. “Maybe a few weeks ago we wouldn’t have been shocked, but you aren’t the same Blaise as then.”

“I don’t understand–”

Draco fixed him with a glare. “You know why I eventually decided to make up with you and not interfere in whatever you had with Theo? It was because of that evening when you actually turned down an easy fuck, just so you could spend time with him. The old you would have never done that.”

Blaise didn’t know what to say to that, biting his lip uncomfortably. After a while, Draco’s expression softened.

“I know it’s scary, but it’s okay to care. It’s okay to admit that you like him.”

Those simple words hit Blaise harder than a mad Bludger could, and he felt sick as he came to the realisation that he’d done the one thing he’d vowed never to do.

He’d gone and developed _feelings_ for Theo.

Now he understood why he’d put so much effort into getting to know Theo, why he’d spent so much time with him doing the sort of things he never did with his conquests. They’d actually talked to each other, _really_ talked. He genuinely enjoyed Theo’s company and it was so satisfying that he hadn’t even bothered to hook up with anyone. It also explained why being with Justin had been so lacking, and at the thought of what he’d done and what Theo had seen, Blaise felt like punching a wall.

Draco watched him scrutinisingly. “From the expression on your face, I take it that you’ve finally realised that you want more from him than a simple shag? Also, it might interest you to know that I was so against you pursuing him in the first place because I already knew about his feelings for you.”

Blaise felt like Draco had punched him again, the breath leaving him in one go. “ _What_?”

Draco gave him a condescending look. “He’s been in love with you for years, you utter prick. Maybe even back when we were kids.”

“Oh Merlin, I need to find him.” Blaise would have sprung to his feet and run off to do just that but Draco placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know if it’s too late or not, but right now, he needs space. Please respect him enough to give him that much.”

Blaise settled back onto the bed and threw a forearm over his eyes. “I’ve seriously fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I agree. Let’s just hope that it can be fixed.” 

The thing that scared Blaise the most was that Draco didn’t sound too sure about the fixing part.

* * *

“I don’t know, ‘Imagine Dragons’?”

Everyone stared at Draco with varying levels of ‘what the fuck’, and he crossed his arms defiantly.

“I don’t see anyone else giving suggestions.”

“Why would we need to imagine dragons?” Harry asked with a confused frown. “We already know they exist.”

“I don’t know, okay!” Draco burst out. “The bloody concert is next week and we don’t even know what to call ourselves! This is going to be a disaster.”

“Draco, you need to stop being so pessimistic,” Blaise groaned, rubbing at his temple where a headache was threatening to bloom. Draco had been whinging all morning.

Snape and Lupin chose that moment to make their arrival and Blaise heaved a sigh of relief.

“Sorry we’re late,” Lupin said, taking his place behind the keyboard. “ _Someone_ had to stop and scold a bunch of first years for _daring_ to actually laugh in his presence.” He sent Snape an exasperated look, and the Potions master sniffed haughtily.

“They were being unnecessarily loud in the corridors. I was doing everyone a favour.” He sat down at the drum set and picked up the drumsticks. “Shall we begin?”

Blaise moved off to the side and watched critically as they began, noting that while they all played quite well now, the energy was somewhat lacking. He waited until they were done before saying anything.

“That was really good, but I think it’s time you all got into the feel of a rock band. You’re all too stiff.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “For instance, Professor Lupin, maybe you could sway while you played, or maybe even dance a bit?”

Lupin nodded, and before everyone’s disbelieving eyes, transformed into the kind of wild rock star that everyone wanted in their band. His expression turned almost feral, and his body took on a languid air, moving fluidly as he played. When he was done, he stepped away from the keys and in the blink of an eye, had turned back into his usual soft, unassuming self.

“What?” he asked, blinking innocently when no one said a word. 

“That was–” Blaise broke off, not really knowing what to say. “Yeah, that was what I was hoping for.”

Lupin nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

“Okay, no,” Draco burst out. “How did that even happen? That was _not_ _normal_.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that was reminiscent of the ridiculous band he was in with Black and Potter,” he sneered.

Lupin laughed. “Ah, so you knew about that?”

“As if anyone didn’t, with Potter boasting about it left and right.” Snape’s mouth scrunched up in distaste. “I believe you once performed at the Three Broomsticks?”

“Our first and last show. Were you there?”

Snape almost looked like he was about to laugh. “I was _regretfully_ unable to attend.”

“Is it just me, or are they _bantering_?” Draco whispered into Blaise’s ear, and he gave a jerky nod.

The door opened again and Pansy and Ron came in, both looking extremely fed up.

“Hey,” Blaise greeted them. “Why so glum?”

Pansy threw herself into Draco’s arms. “Why did we ever think it would be a good thing to bring Theo in contact with Hermione? They’ve been talking about books all morning and it’s driving us insane.” She gave a pathetic whimper. “It was horrible, Draco, so horrible.”

“If it wasn’t for the fact that ‘Mione isn’t his type, I might have felt threatened by the bloke,” Ron grumbled. “I liked it better when he spent most of his time with Blaise.”

Blaise looked away, chest constricting painfully. Theo still refused to talk to him, or even look at him for that matter. He still hung out with their group but it was as if Blaise was dead to him. He’d tried talking to him back at the dorms, but Theo made it so that he was gone by the time Blaise woke up and was hidden behind his bed curtains by the time Blaise came up for bed. He’d stopped frequenting his reading nook too, and sometimes Blaise would lie in their spot by himself, lonely and hating himself.

“We should get back to practice,” Blaise announced, turning to Snape. “Professor, you can’t exactly dance when you’re drumming but I think you can use your hair to an advantage. Swing it around like you just don’t care.”

“You cannot be serious,” Snape deadpanned, while everyone else’s mouths fell open in universal shock. Blaise smiled sweetly.

“Oh, I’m dead serious.”

“This is going to be the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Pansy sniffed, suddenly overcome with emotion, and Blaise had to agree that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity indeed.

Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he looked like he was about to throw a fit and refuse, but eventually he let out a loud resigned sigh and sat back at the drum set, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

“I deserve a sainthood for this.”

What followed had to be the single most disconcerting thing Blaise had ever seen in his life, and he’d seen his fair share of madness. Apart from the beat of the drums, there was no sound in the room as everyone froze in place. Snape looked a bit like a giant bat from hell with his dark robes and hair flying everywhere, and Blaise couldn’t decide if the visual was disturbing or hot. He was pretty sure none of others, except for perhaps Pansy, would agree to the hot part though. Lupin looked like he was trying his hardest not to laugh, Draco seemed to be petrified in horror, and Blaise was pretty sure Harry would faint in a bit.

When Snape was done, he smoothed his hair back and adjusted his robes, his scowl still firmly in place. Harry hadn’t fainted in the end, but it looked like he’d need intense therapy after what he’d just witnessed.

“Well?” Snape grit out.

Blaise jolted out of his shock and hastened to speak. “Yeah, that was great. Just what I was hoping for, actually.”

Snape seemed slightly mollified by this and practice continued, this time with them all playing together. Draco seemed to be having a bit of difficulty with stage presence but surprisingly, Harry took to it like he was born to be a punk rock star. Blaise felt a bit of tension leaving his chest as he watched them perform, seeing just how far they’d come from that first dreadful practice. He didn’t want to jinx it, but he was pretty certain they could do it, _Blood Oath_ or not.

“You’re never going to tell me what happened between you and Theo, are you?” Pansy spoke up beside him, keeping her voice low. Blaise glanced at Ron but he didn’t seem to be paying them any attention, focused on the practice.

“There’s nothing _to_ tell,” he sighed. “I did something I shouldn’t have, he saw, and now he wants nothing to do with me. I messed up.”

Pansy pursed her lips. “At least you acknowledge you’ve done something wrong. If it makes you feel any better, Theo misses you.”

Blaise snorted. “He does not. He probably abhors me now.” He still couldn’t shake the look on Theo’s face.

“He misses you,” Pansy insisted, chin jutting out stubbornly. “You probably haven’t noticed because you’re too busy _not_ looking at him, but whenever he thinks no one’s watching, he keeps glancing at you.”

Blaise swallowed hard. “I really like him, Pans,” he admitted, and it felt good to finally say it out loud. Terrifying, but good.

Pansy leant into his side and wrapped her arm around him. “Darling, it’s going to be fine. For now, focus on getting these four up to par and then try talking to him. He’ll be cooled down by then, hopefully.”

Blaise leant his head on top of hers and exhaled slowly. The new term was turning out to be a bit _too_ interesting for his liking.

* * *

The night of the concert dawned faster than any of them could have fully anticipated, and the past few days had been so hectic that Blaise hardly thought about Theo at all. Having to deal with a stressed out-Draco—which happened to be one of the hardest things in the world to accomplish—was enough to keep an army busy.

“Oh Merlin, I can’t do this!” Draco was pacing back and forth furiously in their ‘dressing room’. It was actually just a Wizarding tent erected behind the makeshift stage in the courtyard, and right now all its occupants – namely Blaise and Harry – were valiantly trying to calm Draco down.

“Malfoy, for fuck’s sake, get a hold of yourself!” Harry finally bellowed, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him for good measure. “I’m already stressed out as it is without you raving like a lunatic.”

“Potter, you don’t understand.” Draco clutched Harry back, looking frantic. “I have stage fright.”

Blaise face-palmed. Honestly, _what_ was he even saying now?

Harry didn’t look amused, baring his teeth menacingly and bringing his face close to Draco’s. “That has got to be the biggest lie I have ever heard from you yet,” he growled, and Draco’s eyes widened marginally, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

Blaise wanted to cry. Now was _not_ the time for Draco to be getting randy.

“Now,” Harry continued, still using that dark as sin voice, “We’re going to go out there. We’re going to play these instruments as perfectly as we did our last practice. We’re going to sing. We’re going to dance around the stage like a couple of strippers, minus the stripping. And most importantly–” he shook Draco again, “–we’re going to fucking _end_ this _Blood Oath._ ” He finally let go, and Draco stumbled to right himself as Harry crossed his arms. “Is that understood?”

Draco swallowed slowly. “Yes.”

Harry smiled then and reverted back to his normal self. “Good. Let’s do this.” He grabbed his guitar and exited the tent, leaving behind two flustered Slytherins.

“Draco, you really need to shag him as soon as you can,” Blaise told him after a beat. “That was hot as fuck.”

Draco nodded mutely, not even _trying_ to play the denial card. He went over to the mirror to check himself out one last time. “Do I look alright?” he asked nervously. “The makeup isn’t too much, is it? Pansy assures me it looks fine but I’m not sure I–”

“Draco, you look great,” Blaise interrupted, speaking with the utmost sincerity as he gave him a long, appreciative look. 

Pansy had really outdone herself with the costume and makeup. She’d decided on a set of black half robes for the lot of them to be worn over dark bottoms. The robes fell to around mid-thigh for the professors, and she’d allowed them to wear normal trousers as opposed to the leather ones she’d managed to squeeze Harry and Draco into. Their own robes were much shorter, and Pansy had made them tuck them in to accentuate their lean physique. Add dragon-hide boots, and it made for a very attractive look indeed.

She’d left the professors plain-faced, not wanting to push her luck by trying to doll them up, but she’d gone a bit crazy with the other two. Blaise had never really appreciated how gorgeous Harry and Draco’s eyes were until Pansy had outlined them so stunningly. Bold, dark strokes of eyeliner for Harry, making his already intense stare even more so, and a smoky, sinfully sultry look for Draco. And to top it all off, while she’d been forced to concede her defeat against Harry’s untamable hair—luckily for them, the just-rolled-out-of-bed-after-a-good-shag look that he usually sported actually suited the occasion—Pansy had painstakingly styled Draco’s hair into artfully messy waves that only added to his thoroughly debauched look.

So yes, Draco had nothing to worry about in the looks department right now.

Thus mollified, Draco exited the tent, and Blaise followed him into the cool night air. The rest of the band was waiting for them at the edge of the stage, all looking a bit apprehensive.

“Hermione and Ron are doing some last-minute touch-ups with the instruments,” Lupin told them when they joined them. “Pansy’s about to announce the name of the band.”

Blaise blinked. “Wait, did anyone even come up with a name for it?”

“ **And now, put your hands together for _Blood Oath_**!”

Draco shrugged, climbing onto the stage as the crowd cheered. “That works, I suppose.”

* * *

Blaise was standing with Pansy and the two Gryffindors when the parchment in Hermione’s hand spontaneously burst into flames. Her alarmed shriek quickly morphed into an excited squeal and Ron joined her with a loud whoop. For some reason, he then swept her up into a passionate kiss, but Blaise supposed he understood the sentiment behind it. Watching the _Oath_ burn was like taking a great weight off his chest, even though they’d all been pretty sure by this point that the boys (and professors) had done it.

The concert had gone better than expected and it was all thanks to Draco and Harry letting loose like a couple of demons. They’d been so uninhibited that Blaise genuinely wondered if they’d had a spot of alcohol beforehand. The crowd had loved it all; the noise levels reaching deafening heights when the boys had broken form and come closer to the edge of the stage, throwing around coquettish looks and over-exaggerated movements. At one point, they’d suddenly decided to get right up in each other’s faces, foreheads grinding together even while their guitars stopped their bodies from doing the same. Blaise was surprised no one had fainted at that point, and he was pretty sure there’d be pictures of the uncontested _climax_ of the performance circulating in no time at all, passing into the hands of greedy (horny) fanboys and girls.

“I’ll go and tell them it’s over,” Blaise called out to Pansy, already making his way back to the tent where the band mates had retreated after their performance.

On the way he ran into the two professors, already changed back into their normal robes.

“The _Oath_ has combusted by now, hasn’t it?” Snape asked without missing a beat.

Blaise grinned. “Nothing but dust.”

Snape didn’t look surprised and even Lupin shrugged casually.

“We expected as much.”

Snape’s lip curled. “They could have been playing a set of tea cups for all the students cared. The _Oath_ was destroyed simply because of the shameless manner in which they behaved tonight.”

Blaise couldn’t help laughing at how utterly disgusted Snape seemed to be. When Draco and Harry finally got their act together, he fervently hoped he’d be there to witness Snape’s reaction to who his precious godson had chosen to figuratively run away into the sunset with.

“I’ll see you in class then, professors. I’ve got to tell the boys the good news.” He gave them a wink. “Oh, and steer clear of a pack of third-year Hufflepuffs. They seem to have started a fan club for the two of you.”

“Kill me,” Snape muttered as Blaise left them, though Lupin looked rather pleased by the notion of underage fangirls.

When Blaise made it to the tent, he ducked in without further ado, grin already firmly in place. “Chaps, I’ve got some–” He stopped short as he took in the welcome sight of the two in denial idiots _finally_ kissing.

Harry had Draco tenderly cradled against him, one hand cupping his cheek while Draco had his arms wrapped loosely around Harry’s shoulders. They’d both changed out of their concert clothes and were dressed similarly in jeans and soft jumpers, their faces void of makeup. The kiss was unexpectedly slow and soft, as if they had all the time in the world, and the whole scene was almost unbearably sweet.

The two hadn’t noticed him yet and wanting to keep it that way, Blaise quietly exited the tent. For some reason, he found himself rather shaken by what he’d just seen, though he wasn’t certain why. He was undeniably ecstatic about it all, but at the same time, he felt a hint of bitterness. Draco had left him behind in a sense, moving on to a new aspect of life that had Blaise completely in the dark. Add to that the mess with Theo, and suddenly Blaise wasn’t all that inclined to grin anymore.

“Oh, there you are!” Pansy called when he found her at the outskirts of a crowd of dancing students. Apparently, they’d taken over the courtyard to host an impromptu party and for some reason, the professors had turned a blind eye to it all and retreated back inside the castle. Blaise raised a hand in salute and after taking in his face, Pansy frowned and grabbed his hand, dragging him off to a quieter spot.

“Alright, spill. What happened?” she demanded.

“I walked in on Draco and Harry kissing.”

“Oh.” Pansy broke into a bright smile. “That’s a good thing… isn’t it?” 

“It’s a great thing,” Blaise replied, tilting his head back. The stars twinkled down at him almost mockingly with their cheeriness. “I know Harry will be good to him.”

Pansy’s forehead scrunched up as she gave him a confused frown. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you’re suddenly angsting.” Blaise sighed, but chose not to reply, still staring up at the night sky.

“You feel left out, don’t you?” Pansy finally said, and Blaise gave her a sardonic grin. She was far too perceptive for her own good.

“And if I confirmed that statement to be true, what would you say to that.”

Pansy gave him a dry look. “I would tell you to stop moping and find Theo. I think it’s time for that talk of yours.”

Blaise knew she was right, but the thought of talking to Theo was unnerving at best. Despite his suave way with words, Blaise hated any form of unpleasantness and truthfully speaking, direct confrontations terrified him.

“I don’t know where he is so…” he began hopefully, but Pansy had been put on this plane of existence solely to make his life miserable and _obviously_ had a reply for this.

“He’s in the Greenhouse.”

Blaise groaned. “How do you even _know_ that?”

Pansy gave him an indulgent smile. “Darling, if you hadn’t been too busy glaring holes into the back of Smith’s head when he dared to actually ask Theo for a quill of all things, you would’ve heard Neville mention how Theo had volunteered to sit with his Neverblossom.”

“What the fuck is a Neverblossom?”

“They’re flowers that look a bit like midnight blue carnations actually, and they take about a thousand years to blossom,” Pansy replied as if reading off a textbook. “Since no one can be bothered to actually keep one alive for that long, there’s never been a record of a blossomed Neverblossom, hence the name. But it turns out Professor Sprout’s family has been looking after one for generations and Neville offered to take over. Apparently it might blossom today but Neville was scared he’d miss it by attending the concert. Theo offered to watch it for him.”

Blaise sighed. “I could have done without that Herbology lesson, but thanks. I’ll go find him then.”

Pansy kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck.” Blaise gave her a grateful smile and nod before hurrying off to the Greenhouse.

When he drew close, he could make out Neville and Theo conversing at the entrance. Neville said something that made Theo laugh and then gave him a pat on the back before going into the Greenhouse. Theo was still smiling when he turned towards the path back to the castle, but the smile dropped as soon as he caught sight of Blaise.

Blaise offered him a tentative smile even as he felt his heart sink at the way Theo’s expression closed up. He was about to call out to him, but then Theo did the last thing Blaise would have ever expected him to do.

He bloody turned on his heel and _ran away_.

Blaise stood gaping for the span of about five seconds before he was pelting after him.

“I need to speak to you!”

Theo didn’t stop though and Blaise was grateful for his long legs as he struggled to keep up. Theo may have been a bookworm by nature but Merlin, the boy could certainly run.

“Theo, please,” he tried calling out again.

“Leave me alone, Blaise!” Theo shouted back and Blaise grit his teeth. He would speak to him tonight if it killed him.

Blaise was so focused on Theo that he didn’t even notice where they were headed until he was suddenly plunged into almost darkness and Theo was nowhere in sight. With a shiver, he realised that they’d just entered the Forbidden Forest and that he’d inadvertently lost Theo in the trees. He knew that entering the Forest at night was pretty much a death wish, but he also knew that he had to find Theo. Blaise desperately wanted to call out to him, but he was afraid of what he might attract if he started yelling.

Apart from the measly amount of moonlight streaming down through the canopy of trees, the Forest was void of any light, and the shadows cast all around made Blaise uneasy. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves overhead, but it almost felt as if he was being watched from every direction. His wand was firmly in hand but it provided little comfort when he thought of what was rumoured to inhabit the Forest, and Merlin forbid either of them ran into any centaurs. 

A few minutes later—the longest of Blaise’s lifetime—he found Theo.

He was crouched under a tree at the edge of a small clearing, knees drawn up and head bowed. “Go away,” he muttered, without lifting his head.

Blaise faltered for a moment but stepped closer anyways. “I told you, I need to speak to you.”

Theo finally looked up and his expression could be described as nothing short of _glacial_ , dark eyes void of any of the warmth Blaise had grown accustomed to.

“And if I don’t wish to speak to you?” he said in a calm voice.

“I need to explain myself. Just… listen, okay?”

Theo sprang to his feet and for a moment, Blaise almost thought that he was about to be punched..

“There’s nothing for you to explain, Blaise,” Theo sighed, his cold attitude abruptly melting away and leaving behind nothing but tired resignation. “It’s my fault for deluding myself. I really need to stop reading those romance novels; they’re addling my senses.” He gave a strangled little laugh and brushed past Blaise, making his way to the other side of the clearing.

Blaise wanted to scream in frustration. He wanted to grab Theo the same way Harry had grabbed Draco, and give him a good shaking until he bloody _listened_ to him, but he knew he had to handle this delicately. He couldn’t move forward like a rampaging erumpent when Theo was looking fragile enough to shatter with a single, calloused touch.

“None of this is on you, Theo. It’s entirely my fault, I _know_ that,” Blaise called after the retreating figure desperately. He couldn’t let it end like _this_ , with Theo calmly walking away from him. “Please, just let me-”

An explosion of noise suddenly jarred the stillness of the night, and Blaise felt his blood go cold. Slowly, Theo turned to face him, his face deadly pale and eyes wide with terror, and the only thought in Blaise’s mind was he needed to reach him. He opened his mouth to say _something_ as he began to run towards Theo, but the only sound that left his throat was an anguished cry when an acromantula sprang out from the trees and went straight for Theo.

The thing made a truly ungodly sound as it made contact with Theo, completely bowling him over. His slight form went tumbling over and over across grass, and when he finally came to a halt, the acromantula was immediately upon him, bracketing him in on all sides with its long, hairy legs. Theo let out an absolutely heart-wrenching scream as the creature opened its mouth, and to Blaise’s horror, its fangs were already extended and ready to plunge into the helpless boy lying underneath it.

Theo—brilliant, clever, beautiful Theo, the boy who’d somehow snuck under all his defences and reached his heart—was about to die right in front of him.

Now, for the record, Blaise was not a brave person. He may have fought in the War and done some praiseworthy acts of bravery, but in his humble opinion, he’d done it all simply to _survive._ He’d not been placed in Gryffindor for a reason, and that reason probably included his healthy sense of self-preservation.

_Well, self-preservation bedamned._

With a cry that didn’t even sound human, Blaise launched himself at the acromantula and instead of using his wand as any sane wizard would, he chose to body slam the creature like some beast himself, because apparently another effect of love was the complete loss of sense.

Shockingly, his slam actually seemed to affect the acromantula and while it was disoriented, Blaise grabbed Theo’s arm and dragged him out from under it. He still seemed to be in a state of shock but managed to get to his feet with Blaise’s help. Having thus saved Theo from certain death, Blaise’s sanity snapped back in place and he quickly realised that they now had a vicious giant spider a mere few feet away from them that was probably pissed at being body-slammed in the first place.

“We need to run,” he told Theo with a good deal of cool considering their situation. The acromantula settled its beady gaze on them and Blaise gulped. “Like, right now!”

Gripping Theo’s hand like a lifeline, Blaise ran like his life depended on it — as it very well did. He didn’t bother looking behind him as that was just asking his feet to trip up, and from all the crashes and bone-chilling shrieks coming from behind them, it was a bit of a given that the acromantula was following.

“Theo, I’m not good at courting,” Blaise shouted over the din. “I’ve never done it before and it’s a completely foreign act to me.”

Theo executed a rather impressive leap over a fallen tree, his hand gripping Blaise’s hand back so tightly it almost hurt. “You’re actually doing this _now_?” he yelled back, incredulously. “When we’re running for our fucking lives?!”

“You never swear,” Blaise gasped.

“ _That’s_ what you got from what I just said?”

Blaise took a sharp turn, and Theo yelped as he was dragged along. There was a louder than normal crash behind them and Blaise hoped it was the sound of the acromantula colliding with a tree instead of making the turn.

“To answer your question,” Blaise continued. “Yes, I am doing this now. If we die here, I’d rather there be nothing left unsaid between us.”

“You’re completely insane!”

“I don’t care if I am,” Blaise retorted, dodging an unexpected stump. He chanced a glance sideways at Theo and found that he looked absolutely _furious_ now.

“You want to talk?” he demanded harshly. “Fine then, let’s bloody _talk_! You want to hear about the inner workings of stupid little Theo Nott?”

Blaise frowned. “You’re not stu–”

“Shut the fuck up and let me speak, arsehole!” Theo snarled and Blaise made up his mind that he liked this new swearing Theo.

“I was so happy when you actually started paying attention to me,” Theo continued in a more even tone. He made a sharp turn of his own, dragging Blaise after him. They were probably lost by this point but the acromantula was still after them and they couldn’t stop.

“You’ve ignored me for years and yet I still pined after you like a lovesick idiot. I was so happy, but at the same time I was scared. I knew that you’d never been serious about anyone before and here I was wishing for you to feel at least a fraction of what I feel for you.”

Blaise choked back something that might have morphed into a sob had he had the breath, and Theo broke off to cough raggedly, his steps faltering. Blaise knew that they couldn’t keep this up forever, and that soon they’d have to succumb to fatigue and then the acromantula would be upon them. The only thing that had kept them alive this long was all the dodging they’d done to throw the creature off.

Theo panted harshly but he seemed determined to finish their conversation, his sentences coming out in between gasps. “And after a while it seemed like you’d actually changed. That you were actually interested in _me._ But then I saw you with Justin and I realised I’d been wrong all along.” His voice broke. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Blaise really wished they weren’t currently running for their lives because Theo had been right about this not being the right time to have this sort of conversation. There was so much he wanted to say, but considering his lack of breath, he settled for making it as short as he could while still getting his point across.

“I was jealous. Justin liked you and I was jealous so I wanted to make him forget you.”

“So you decided to shag him yourself?” Theo’s eyes bugged out. “Good Merlin, you _are_ insane. Who even thinks like that?”

Blaise gave him a hopefully repentant-sounding grunt in response, too winded for anything else.

“There!” Theo suddenly yelled, pointing at an opening in the otherwise dense forest. “That’s where we entered from.”

Blaise could have sobbed with relief but he decided that it would be better to wait until they were actually out of the Forest to do so. Theo was practically dragging him by this point, but together they made it out. The acromantula was still close on their heels though, so they couldn’t stop their mad dash just yet.

_Honestly, what was its fucking problem?!_

They were racing down the slope towards Hagrid’s hut when Blaise heard the welcome sound of Draco’s voice and almost immediately saw him and Harry rushing towards them.

“Thank Salazar, there you are! We’ve been looking all _– is that a bloody acromantula?!_ ”

Blaise collapsed into Draco’s arms as soon as they reached him, and Theo followed his example, only to have Draco immediately shove them both off as he quickly placed himself between them and the acromantula. It was certainly a sweet gesture on his part, trying to protect them like that, but the acromantula seemed to view his act of bravery as a chance to eat him alive and sprang at Draco with a disgusting shriek.

Biggest mistake of its life.

The next thing Blaise knew, the acromantula was hurtling back through the air in an impressive arc until it finally disappeared into the darkness of the forest, a mighty crash following soon after. Harry pocketed his wand with a scoff.

“No one eats my boyfriend on my watch.”

Draco looked like he was going to jump Harry right then and there, and thankfully Theo spoke up before he could.

“My congratulations on finally acknowledging your feelings for each other, but could we please take this happy celebration somewhere safer? Preferably inside and away from the Forest.”

“Sure, of course,” Harry said graciously, pushing an indignant Draco away with a hand over his mouth. “We need to tell someone about what happened anyways. It’s weird that the acromantulas are coming this far out.” His eyes widened and he eyed them with concern. “You two aren’t injured anywhere, are you?”

Draco took a sharp intake of breath and Blaise instantly recognised the signs of an overreaction about to happen. Draco might have seemed uncaring most of the time, but he also had the worst mother hen complex ever. He rushed to answer before Draco began a full-on body search.

“We’re fine! Absolutely peachy, in fact. Just tired.”

“We should still take you to Madam Pomfrey just in case,” Draco said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Come on.”

They set off, and without the fear of death to loosen his tongue, Blaise fell into an awkward silence with Theo. They were walking side by side but Blaise had no idea how to restart their previous conversation, and Theo wasn’t exactly helping with his stoic attitude. Not knowing what else to do, Blaise glanced at Draco. One of the perks of being friends for so long was that they’d mastered the art of communication sans words.

So Blaise sent him a look that hopefully conveyed his angst, and Draco gave a brief nod of understanding. He grabbed Harry’s hand to slow them down until they were lagging behind, giving Blaise and Theo some semblance of privacy. Blaise sent Draco a grateful look and then turned to Theo, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Theo, you need to understand that what happened with Justin was a mistake,” Blaise began in a low voice.

Theo gave a slight jump as if startled out of his thoughts. He ducked his head, not meeting Blaise’s eye. “That’s what Justin said too.”

“You spoke to Justin about it?”

“Actually, he was the one who came to me. The night it happened, in the dorms before any of you came up.”

“And… what did he say?” Blaise enquired cautiously.

Theo smiled faintly. “Justin is very sweet. He actually apologised to me. He said that you probably never meant to do it and that he shouldn’t have gone along with it either. He was adamant that he was therefore as much at fault as you were. Of course I told him there was nothing to apologise for. You both are two consenting adults and it’s not like you and I were really together anyways.”

“That’s not true,” Blaise told him vehemently. “We were more together than I’ve ever been with anyone in my life.”

Theo gave a derisive snort. “Please, Blaise, we had nothing that you had with any of your previous conquests as I witnessed first-hand that day.”

Blaise’s voice softened involuntarily when he spoke next. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about an emotional connection, and I can assure you I’ve never had one of those with any of the blokes I’ve been with. You’re the only one, Theo.”

Theo swallowed visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “You can’t just _say_ things like that,” he snapped, voice shaky.

“What things?” Blaise murmured into Theo’s ear, stepping closer and trying his luck by putting his arm around him.

Theo didn’t pull away which seemed like a good sign, but he did give a slight tremble. “Dangerous things,” he answered in a whisper, but Blaise heard anyways. “Things that I can misinterpret to be something they aren’t.”

Blaise held him even more firmly next to him. “Try to misinterpret this then,” he challenged, deciding to take the plunge. “I’m sorry I ever hurt you but you need to know that I’m falling for you, hard. And all I want is for you to say you’ll be mine.” As confessions went, Blaise thought his was pretty good; especially considering this was his first and hopefully his last too.

Theo’s mouth dropped open and he wrenched himself out of Blaise’s grip, stumbled rather spectacularly and then promptly fell on his face.

“Fuck, Theo, are you alright?” Blaise hurriedly crouched down to help him up, thankful when he saw that his nose and all his teeth seemed to be in place.

“You just confessed to me!” Theo gasped out, his eyes wide as he struggled to get up only to flop back onto his arse. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“You’re sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell…” Blaise murmured, his hands already feeling for a possible bump.

“Why would you do that?” Theo repeated more loudly, swatting his hands away.

“Well, see, when a boy loves another boy, he confesses to him,” Blaise said slowly, unable to keep an amused little smile off his face.

“Yes, but you don’t love me,” Theo blurted out frantically.

“I’m pretty certain I’m at least three quarters there already,” Blaise replied breezily, finally managing to get Theo to his feet. “And I think once we start dating, it won’t be long until I’m fully there. You’re a very easy bloke to love, Theodore Nott.”

“You want to date me,” Theo pronounced slowly, looking extremely sceptical. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to _date_ me.”

“Mhmm, that’s what I said.”

“You want to _date me_ ,” Theo repeated. “As in go out only with me, no more other boys.”

Blaise frowned. “I understand the concept of dating, you know, as well as what fidelity is.”

Theo bit his lips, agitation clear on his face. Blaise let out a soft breath as he took one of Theo’s trembling hands between his own. He needed to make him understand that he wasn’t fooling around here. He meant what he said.

“I want to date you, Theo. And yes, it means I don’t need anyone else. I only want to kiss you. Only want to make love to you. Every night if possible, even,” Blaise couldn’t help adding with a wink, a smirk firmly on his face as he watched a dark blush quickly spread across Theo’s cheeks and neck.

“Shut up,” he muttered and Blaise’s smirk widened at the lack of real fire in it. He could see Theo’s resistance slowly dissolving away and continued relentlessly, determined to smother Theo in sappiness.

“I want to hold your hand as we walk down the corridors. I want to lean on your shoulder as we sit in the Great Hall. I want to lie on your lap as you read by the Lake. I want to kiss you and hold you and touch you. I want to make you moan in pleasure and scream in ecsta–”

“I get it, I get it. Just stop!” Theo clamped a hand over Blaise’s mouth, his blush deepening. Blaise didn’t mind though, because Theo was _smiling_ and it made him feel practically giddy with happiness. Giving in to childish impulse, he stuck out his tongue and gave Theo’s hand a cheeky little lick.

Theo withdrew his hand with a small squeak and a half-hearted glare, his blush practically a permanent fixture by this point. “Don’t do that,” he grumbled, making a show of wiping off his hand on Blaise’s robe sleeve.

“Well, you’ve heard my case now, so what’s your answer?” Blaise asked after a brief pause, sounding more confident than he actually felt.

Theo took a breath as if to steel himself and then gently took hold of Blaise’s hand. His hand was about as sweaty as Blaise’s was and it was sort of disgusting but Blaise didn’t care. He wanted to search Theo’s face for any remaining hostility but the other boy ducked his head, obscuring his eyes with his fringe.

“I think–” Theo abruptly cut himself off, and Blaise could feel the slightest tremble in the hand still holding his own. He used their joined hands to tug Theo closer until he was warm against his side as he’d been before.

“It’s okay,” Blaise told him gently. “I won’t question whatever decision you’ve made. Just say what you have to say.”

“I’m afraid to give you another chance.”

Blaise’s heart sank and a bitter laugh bubbled up inside, only to be stopped by the constriction in his throat. It wasn’t really a surprise that Theo didn’t want him anymore. He’d expected it really and yet…

Why did it hurt so much?

“I understand,” Blaise choked out, trying to take back his hand but Theo wouldn’t let go, bringing his other hand into play as well. He clung to Blaise almost feverishly and finally lifted his head.

“No, you _don’t_ understand.” Theo’s eyes were wide and conflicted, and it was true, right now Blaise didn’t understand.

“I want to give you another chance,” Theo continued, keeping Blaise rooted to the spot with his eyes alone. “I want to, but I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m afraid too,” Blaise hadn’t meant to say that but once the words had left him, he instantly felt lighter because they were _true_. The truest words he’d ever spoken. Theo gaped, and Blaise struggled to put into words exactly what he felt.

“You terrify me in a way,” he whispered. “ _Love_ terrifies me. My mother–” He cut himself off, finding himself grasping for the right words. “My mother wasn’t always the way she is now. Back when my father was still alive, she was happy. _We_ were happy.”

Blaise could feel the swell of emotion inside him, threatening to spill out at any moment. Talking about this was hard. He’d never really told anyone about it before and not even Draco knew exactly what had happened to turn his mother into the bitter woman that she was today.

“Blaise, if it’s hard for you, just stop,” Theo murmured, rubbing Blaise’s hand soothingly between his own. Blaise shook his head.

“No, I shouldn’t be ashamed to talk about this,” he said firmly. “Simply put, my father broke her heart. Or more like he fucking shattered it to pieces.” He gave a humourless laugh. “And then he died, which I’m not going to get into now, but the fact is, he broke my mother and there was no way I or anyone else could fix her. So I grew up with the notion that love brought nothing but pain and that I’d never give anyone that much power over me.”

Blaise wasn’t sure how he’d expected Theo to react to this sudden outpouring, but a big smile was certainly uncalled for.

“You’re always so good with your words,” Theo said softly, stepping closer until they were so close their noses were touching and he was nothing more than a blur in front of Blaise. Theo closed his eyes, and Blaise followed his example. “You know exactly what to say to woo anyone onto your side. Who knew that all you’d have to do is profess your fear for me and I’d be swooning in your arms.”

Blaise’s breath quickened. Did that mean…?

Theo pressed a gentle kiss onto Blaise’s lips, drawing back before Blaise had time to react. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw that Theo was blushing furiously again but still had a smile on his face.

“If you promise never to hurt me again, I’ll devote myself to showing you how beautiful love can be.” Theo’s confident words were belied by the trembling of his voice. Blaise’s smile morphed into what had to be a shit-eating grin, and he swept Theo exuberantly up into his arms. Theo’s weak protests were ignored as Blaise spun them both around before dipping him dramatically while pressing their lips together for another chaste kiss.

“It’s a deal,” Blaise said against Theo’s lips, and he felt more than saw the other boy smile.

Blaise was so happy right now that he was practically vibrating with it, and he was just about to show Theo exactly how much he loved him when another voice piped in, annoyance audible.

“No snogging until you see Madam Pomfrey. Blaise, keep it in your pants, you randy fiend!”

Blaise sighed as he pulled Theo up and out of the dip. He’d forgotten about Draco – resident cock-blocker extraordinaire. He levelled a hard look on him but he looked anything but repentant. 

“Don’t glare at me like that, Blaise. I am simply looking out for your and Theo’s well-beings. And also, I meant it when I said to keep it in your pants. I demand that the two of you follow the steps of a traditional Pureblood courtship.”

Blaise reared back in outrage. “You can’t make us do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” Draco replied coolly. “It’s taken a lot of cockups for you both to get to this point, and I refuse to have it all implode because you’re too ruled by your libido to take things at a reasonable pace.”

“How is a Pureblood courtship ‘a reasonable pace’?! We aren’t allowed to be alone together until we’ve gone on at least ten supervised dates!”

“Oh good, you already know the terms.”

Blaise probably would have murdered Draco in cold blood right then and there, but then Theo chimed in.

“Draco, I think that’s a _wonderful_ idea.”

Blaise’s legs gave out spectacularly at that, and he would have collapsed on the spot if Harry hadn’t rushed to hold him up. He stared in horror as his best friend and boyfriend proceeded to discuss at great lengths the terms to abide for their ‘courtship’, ignoring his weak protests completely as they resumed the trek up to the castle. Blaise could do nothing but numbly follow behind, wondering why the universe seemed to loathe him. When Theo expressed his appreciation for Draco offering to chaperone, Blaise could have wept. Harry squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

“If it makes you feel any better, at least this means that Draco acknowledges your relationship, right? It’s practically like he gave you two his blessings.” Blaise stared at him for a long time.

“Please stop talking.” 

* * *

Blaise glared at his so-called ‘friends’ as they practically wet themselves laughing. They were all lounging by the Lake, the Sunday after the concert, and Draco had just finished telling them about the blasted courtship which he had unremorsefully instigated. It wasn’t really helping that Theo sat a few feet away, brown eyes warm as he nodded along to everything Draco said, looking as pleased as could be, and making it hard for Blaise to feel any real anger.

“And you’re alright with this?” Hermione asked Theo when some of the laughter had subsided.

“Oh yes, I was all for the idea when Draco suggested it. I think it’ll be good for us.” He shot Blaise a small smile which might have looked sweet to the others, but Blaise wasn’t fooled, catching the wicked gleam in the other boy’s eyes. He groaned internally, knowing that he was in for a couple of weeks of hell. No matter what Theo said, he wasn’t truly over the whole Justin incident, and Blaise knew the courtship was his passive-aggressive way of getting back at him.

“You are so whipped,” Pansy said, sounding positively delighted. “Theo’s got you wrapped around his dainty little pinkie.”

“He has,” Blaise replied with a bored air. “And yes, I am.” Pansy blinked in surprise, probably thrown off by the bluntness of his reply, and he saw with some amount of satisfaction that Theo’s air of confidence had faltered a bit, ears beginning to redden.

The sound of chatter in the distance made them all look in the direction of the castle, and it looked like an _army_ of students, varying in years and Houses, were about to descend on them. Draco and Harry instantly looked terrified, and Hermione gave an irritated exclamation as she pulled out her wand.

“Honestly, they’re even starting to get on my nerves now.” She cast a quick _Notice-me-not_ around them, and when the students got closer, confusion was plain on all their faces.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw them here…”

“Maybe they went farther up the bank?”

The party left and it wasn’t only Draco and Harry who let out sighs of relief.

The concert and _Oath_ were now things of the past, but there was a great deal of lasting effects and one of them was that Draco and Harry had an abundance of groupies now. Normally it would have been funny, but they’d taken to following them _all_ around. In fact, Blaise had already said, “Sorry, I don’t know where they are, please stop following me” at least twenty times today alone.

There’d even been a particular group dedicated to the two professors but that had quickly been nipped in the bud when they managed to annoy _Lupin_ – which really was a remarkable feat in and of itself – and he’d finally set Snape on them. No one knew exactly what had gone down, but the students had come in for lunch looking as subdued as a bunch of crup pups who’d had their toys taken away.

Another leftover of the concert was obviously the fact that Draco and Harry were no longer firmly in denial and were apparently on a mission to shove their love in everyone’s faces. Blaise would have been happy for them if it weren’t for the complete injustice of it all. Here was Draco, practically curled up in Harry’s lap, while Blaise wasn’t even allowed to be near Theo without a fucking _chaperone_. 

When Harry murmured something into Draco’s ear that made him laugh before he pulled Harry into an achingly tender kiss, Blaise had had enough. He deflected the others’ concerned questions with the pretence of feeling restless and needing a quick walk, leaving them as he started a slow trek along the bank.

He walked for a while and some of his frustration was beginning to ebb away when he suddenly realised that his feet had subconsciously brought him to Theo’s reading spot. In a way, this was sort of where everything had started, and he felt bittersweet as he sat in the little cot of roots by himself. He finally had Theo, and yet he was still so far away.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that he wasn’t alone anymore until he heard an awkward cough. He looked up to find Theo standing a few feet away, nervousness obvious in the shuffling of his feet. What Blaise noted the most though, was that Theo was _alone_.

“Where’s Draco? You know this isn’t allowed.”

Theo bit his lip, and it was a full minute before he spoke. 

“You looked upset when you left.”

“And I wonder why that is,” Blaise mused aloud, gaining some satisfaction when Theo flinched. He sighed. “What do you want, Theo? Draco will have my bollocks if he finds us so blatantly breaking tradition.”

“You have no right to be angry about this.” Blaise’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“Excuse me?”

“I agreed to be your boyfriend after all. There’s nothing for you to be complaining about here,” Theo said in an almost petulant voice. Blaise gave a humourless laugh.

“Oh, and I suppose I’m supposed to be simply ecstatic that we can’t do any of the things that normal couples do until the time is right? How silly of me to actually want to spend time with you alone, and I don’t mean it in a dirty way whatsoever.”

Theo flinched again and Blaise realised that somewhere along the lines he’d raised his voice. He didn’t allow himself to feel guilty about it though, focusing on the anger that was bubbling to the surface for once.

“Maybe you want to teach me a lesson or something by doing this,” he continued, finally standing up and waving a hand between them. Theo watched on with an unreadable expression. “You want to test me; want to prove to everyone around that I’m serious about this. And that’s fine, I probably deserve it and I’m not going to make a fuss about this. Just– it’s like I’m the only one who feels this ache from wanting you so bad, and I guess I wish you’d feel the same.”

There, he’d said it.

Theo stared at him for a moment, and then covered his face with his hands. “Merlin, I’m an utter arse, aren’t I?” His voice came out slightly muffled behind his hands. When he removed them, there was a rueful smile on his face. “And I really want to kiss you right now, so I suppose this is proof that the universe has a sense of irony.”

This startled a laugh out of Blaise, and Theo gave a sheepish shrug, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Aha! I _caught_ you!”

Blaise really did reach for his wand this time, intent on hexing Draco to the next millennia. The blond bastard was grinning triumphantly as he stood with his hands resting prissily on his narrow hips, a panting Harry apologetically looking on from behind him. Blaise raised his wand threateningly, a Stinging Hex already on his tongue, but then Theo suddenly pulled him in for a kiss and his mind went blank.

They’d already kissed before, of course, but those had been dry little pecks, hardly kisses at all. This, however, was a _kiss._ Open-mouthed, wet, searing hot. Theo was so good at it that Blaise began to wonder if he wasn’t as innocent as he’d made himself out to be. Then Theo brought his tongue into play, practically forcing his way into Blaise’s mouth, and well, he bloody didn’t care how many blokes Theo might or might not have snogged in the past, because he was snogging Blaise now and it was _brilliant._

When Theo finally released him – for he’d been the one in control for pretty much the whole snog – Blaise was weak at the knees and panting harshly. Theo looked similarly wrecked but he also looked pleased with his handiwork, rubbing Blaise’s heated cheek fondly with one hand.

“So… how was it?”

“You were made to be a creature of sin.”

“I take it that means you liked it.”

“Words cannot describe how I feel, but yes, I liked it.” Blaise couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t been in control of a kiss, but he supposed Theo would continue to be a first in more ways than one.

He suddenly remembered that they had an audience and he looked over at where Draco didn’t seem to be faring too well, gaping like a fish out of water. Harry looked happy though and even shot them a thumbs-up behind Draco’s back.

“Draco, it seems the courtship won’t be happening after all,” Theo told him, not very apologetically.

“I gathered,” Draco actually hissed, and then he grabbed Harry’s hand and proceeded to drag him away, leaving them alone again. Theo shrugged and pulled a small paperback out of his robe pocket.

“Care for a read?”

Blaise smirked as he settled down against the tree again, pulling Theo into his lap so his back was to Blaise’s front, glad that he was finally allowed to really hold him. He nuzzled his nose into the dark hair at Theo’s nape that smelled vaguely of chocolate, and relished in the small shiver this elicited.

“And what are we reading today, another love story?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Blaise placed his head on Theo’s shoulder with a smile. “Not really. I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for romance, actually.”

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos are appreciated, comments give me life, and if you'd like to come chat me up on my [Tumblr](https://nestofdreams.tumblr.com/), then please do!


End file.
